


Diplomatic Entanglements: An Inextricable Tale

by canarynoir



Series: Fullmetal Alchemist: Inextricable AU [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist (2003), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:29:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canarynoir/pseuds/canarynoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Sequel to Inextricable] Central HQ and Central City are turned upside down by the sudden arrival of foreign dignitaries. The chaos also derails Ed's attempt at a romantic conquest, and mayhem ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Wait until the Diplomatic Incident!"

The best thing that could be said about the Great Eastern Desert was that it created a practically insurmountable barrier between the two powerful nations which stood on either side of it. War-crazy Amestris deemed the desert too difficult an obstacle to overcome, even for such a prize as Xing; Xing kept its own counsel but seemed to believe similarly.

At the moment, Edward Elric was just mad at it for existing.

He'd been standing at its edge, staring out across its vast expanse for a long time, thinking. For the road trip, he'd donned his old "uniform" of black tank, jacket, and trousers, tough-soled boots, and red coat. It was hot enough here on the desert's edge that he'd shed both the coat and the jacket and was thinking about the boots.

Second Lieutenant Falman trudged back across the sand just then, however, his head shaking. "It's been too long, sir," he apologized. "The tracks have blown away by now. I can't find anything to even pretend to follow."

Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye — Ed's commander — had allowed him to go on this wild goose chase so soon after his most recent hospital stay on one condition. And it was one condition rather too well backed-up by Winry and Alphonse for Edward to ignore: he couldn't actually _do_ anything but order Falman around.

"Damn it," Ed growled, but it was only what he'd expected once the trail had begun winding in this direction three days before. Vera Landis had run fast and far, and either she wanted them to believe she'd fled Amestris and had made it look really, really good. Or she _had_ fled Amestris — which was what Ed believed. Not that he expected that meant he was rid of her for good. _Oh, nooo. I never get_ that _lucky._

She'd be back, sooner or later. Just as crazy. _Probably trailing a hyena husband and puppies along with her, too, and still wanting to build up her "pack."_

He blew out a breath and shook his head, stopping almost at once as stars twinkled around his peripheral vision.

"Head still hurt, sir?" Falman asked in what Ed thought was a rather smug tone. The 2nd lieutenant had been around Havoc and Mustang for far too long if he was picking up the "kick Fullmetal when he's down" game.

"I'm fine," Ed snapped, turning on his heel and marching back to the car. He yelled over his shoulder, "Let's go! I've had enough of this damned desert, anyway."

It had taken three days to convince Hawkeye and then Winry and Alphonse to let him go and then another week to follow Vera's trail all the way out to the desert's edge. Going back to Central would be more direct and take less time, but it still meant days with too much time to think.

Ed almost wished he hadn't insisted. Once he'd started insisting, he hadn't felt he could back down. _Stupid_ , he scolded himself. And to think he'd believed he'd been doing pretty well letting go of his stubborn determination to _show them._

"Show who?" he muttered, swinging himself up into the truck they'd commandeered for the trip.

"Sir?" Falman asked as he settled himself in the driver's seat.

"Nothing," he whispered and settled back into the seat, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.

Winry stood with her hands on her hips, regarding the mess that was her future workroom with deep dislike. Edward was _supposed_ to be here. Helping.

She'd tried not to get mad about his insistence on haring off after Vera Landis, but he still wasn't ready for field work and hadn't quite gotten past the dizzy spells left over from the truly awful concussion he had, but he _would go_ and nothing would stop him.

But she didn't want to wait any longer. She wanted to move in _now_!

"I have half a mind," she declared to the empty room. "To ask Alphonse to transmute the house!" That would certainly show Ed.

But it wouldn't be fair. He'd only been so insistent, she knew, because he was so worried about _her._

"Can I help it if I'm worried about him?" she asked. _It's Den's fault,_ she rationalized, blushing. _I'm used to saying everything out loud and having at least a dog around to hear me._ That did it. She'd decided.

"We'll need to get a pet."

Ed's arrival at Gracia's house had been boisterous and brief.

Gracia teased him. "Remember? You signed the papers!"

"Yes, but I thought Winry said that—"

Elysia interrupted. "Winry moved in three days ago. We helped clean!"

Gracia picked up the thought without any apparent break. "Just until you're able to... finish remodeling."

By this time, they'd herded him back through the darkling yard and to the sidewalk. They both were talking so excitedly and noisily and at once that Ed found himself for once more than happy to get away from them.

Fortunately, Falman hadn't driven away just yet, so Ed was able to hitch a ride across city center to the house.

 _My house,_ he amended as he stood in front of it, suitcase sitting on the ground beside him. He frowned. That wasn't quite right, either. "Our house," he said, firmly. But he didn't have a key yet, so he'd have to knock.

"Right," he muttered and marched up to the door, raising his hand just as the door swept away from him to be replaced by Winry, a smile beaming from her lovely face.

"You're home!" she exclaimed, catching his arm and dragging him inside. The door slammed behind them, and they were finally both home. In their house. Together.

Alone.

 _Oh, my God,_ Ed thought. _What have I done?_

"Are you okay, Ed?" Winry asked, frowning at him. "You must feel almost back to normal after all this time...?" She let the end of that statement turn into a question, making it obvious she thought she just never could tell what Ed would do once he was out of her sight.

"I followed orders," he sputtered. " _Everyone's_ orders! I didn't do _anything_ the whole time but tell Falman what to do. I didn't break anything or lose anything or—"

"Okay! Okay. I'm sorry," Winry apologized but any sincerity was marred by the barely suppressed laughter in her voice.

Ed sighed. "I'm tired."

"I'll bet you are, too," Winry chided him. She took his arm again and led him through the house to the one room that had been made livable for the short time they'd need to prepare for the repairs. "I've been gathering everything we put on the list. I think we'll be ready to do it tomorrow."

Ed blushed violently at her unconscious double-entendre, and the thought of transmuting a wall to separate them so she wouldn't see skittered through his brain. _You are,_ he told himself, _a horrible, horrible man._

Winry was innocently burbling on about their shared plans, and here he was having... _thoughts_ about her.

This was certainly not what he wanted for Winry. He didn't want a sudden, fumbling tumble in a room filled with dust and broken furniture shoved against the walls. He wanted to romance her. To wine and dine and woo her. ... _And_ he wanted to...

"Aigh!" he yelled involuntarily, then turned it into a huge yawn as Winry whirled to stare at him, startled.

"Are you sure you're okay, Ed?" she asked.

 _Aside from the sex-crazed insanity? Oh, just fine._ "Yeah. I need to get some sleep is all."

"If I'd realized you'd be back tonight, I would have had the room tidied up more," Winry said. She leaned back against the side of a very tall chest of drawers and shoved it out into the room.

"What are you doing?" Ed asked, confused.

"Making a wall, of course," she said. "We both need a little privacy, even if it is just for one night."

Ed noticed Winry's cheeks seemed pink. _Could be from moving furniture?_ But maybe he wasn't the only one having... _thoughts_.

Two rickety cots were placed on opposite sides of the room that the chest now divided, and Winry indicated the one that was to be his. Ed kicked off his boots and took off his coat and jacket but didn't get any more undressed than that. He then lay down, rolled over to face the wall, and tried rather desperately to go to sleep.

"Fullmetal, you look terrible!" Mustang declared rather too-happily as Edward shambled into work the next morning.

"I didn't sleep well last night," Ed grumbled, stomping into his office and dropping his coat on a chair. He didn't even bother to grace the bastard general with the glare the man so richly deserved.

"This won't do," Mustang continued, following him into his office. "We have a very important meeting with the Prime Minister and some of her cabinet ministers this morning — including the Minister of War."

Ed's eyes widened in horror as he whirled to stare at the brigadier. "But I look terrible!" he exclaimed. "I'm—"

"Not even in uniform," Mustang agreed. "Therefore, you are dismissed to go back to your dorm, clean up, change, get something to eat, and report to my office no later than a quarter to ten."

"Damn it!" Ed yelped, catching his coat back up and scrambling for the door. Mustang's laughter followed him all the way down the hall, but at least it drowned out his own spate of swearing.

"I'll get you a coffee!" Scieszka called after him, and he thought he might be just a tiny bit in love with her.

By the time Ed had made himself fit to be seen — blue uniform tailored to fit him properly, thanks to Gracia's advice, and on straight and hair pulled back into a neat braid — and had gulped down the coffee and pastry the blessed Scieszka had acquired for him, he still had a few minutes before he needed to meet Mustang.

Hawkeye leaned against the doorframe of her office, looking at him with suppressed amusement.

"He loves to yank your chain, Fullmetal," she said.

"I thought I'd been doing a better job of not taking the bait," Ed mumbled.

"You're tired," she said, excusing him. "But this is a very important meeting, I gather. It was lucky you got back when you did. I'm not sure the brigadier could've postponed it much longer."

"Why do I have to be there for something like this? I'm only a major."

Hawkeye shrugged. "Top secret. But the Prime Minister was very insistent on your participation. I almost had to send Captain Ross after you, but Falman reported in last night just as I was about to call her."

Thinking about this and wondering just what the hell he was in for, Ed made his way to Mustang's office.

"Hey, Boss," Havoc called, giving Ed one of his crooked smiles. "You look weird in blue."

"Thanks," Ed replied, smiling back. Havoc had always acted as if he were Ed's big brother, and he took the man's teasing in his stride most of the time.

"Go on in. He's waiting for you."

Ed raised his eyebrows. "Ominous," he observed, but he pushed through the door into Mustang's office, shot the brigadier a look of reflexive dislike, and proclaimed, "I look great! Let's go."

The meeting was just across the square in the recently renovated King's Court building. This grand building had been converted to offices many years ago after the first Fuhrer overthrew the royal family. Now, Amestris was trying very hard to be a democracy, and the new government had decided to use King's Court as its seat.

Everything was shiny and new and exciting, and Ed wondered if the baby steps would strengthen or stumble and fall. He'd seen a constitutional democracy in action while living on the other side of the Gate. He'd rather liked it.

A young man in conservative dress stood in front of the grand building and nodded as they approached. "Brigadier General Mustang. Major Elric," he said.

Ed nodded back as Mustang did. "And you are?" Ed asked.

"I am the Prime Minister's personal secretary. She asked me to escort you to the meeting."

 _And do you have a NAME?_ Ed thought the snark rather than saying it aloud. This was too unclear a situation for him to risk his big mouth.

"Call him Wills," Mustang said under his breath as they followed the young man through the broad, marble corridors of King's Court. "That's what she calls him."

She stood at the far end of the corridor, waiting for them. Ed felt odd that so many people seemed to be waiting for him today. _This is really weird..._

"Major Elric," she said, nodding to Mustang as she stepped forward to meet Ed, her hand outstretched. "It is an honor to meet you."

Ed stared, motionless for a beat before a slight throat-clearing noise from Mustang jolted him into action. He took the Prime Minister's hand gently in his gloved auto-mail and gave a firm, careful shake. "The honor is mine, Madame Prime Minister."

"I've read all the classified reports, you know, Fullmetal," she said. "If I may call you that?"

Ed nodded then added, when he thought he should probably speak when spoken to, "Of course, Ma'am."

"I just want you to know that you needn't worry that I think you're a threat to the state, no matter what rumors swirl around Central."

Mustang shot him a quelling, careful, sideways look, and Ed thought, _I gotta read those reports! What the hell?_

"Thank you, Ma'am," Ed said, managing not to stammer.

"The rest of our group will be joining us in a bit. Let's sit down and talk until then." She gestured toward the open door behind her and they all moved to sit down at one end of a large, beautifully-set table. Tea, cakes, fruit. The works. _And lots of unoccupied seats for when the others arrive._

The Prime Minister reminded him a little of Izumi-sensei, a little of Hawkeye, and a little of Gracia and his mother. She seemed both frighteningly strong and regal and soothingly calm and empathetic.

Her name was Georgiana MacDonald Morris. Her husband was some sort of an artist or craftsman or both. Winry had been talking about him while trying to figure out how to decorate various rooms of their house. He thought he might have heard of her long ago, back during his travels, as some sort of pro-democracy activist. Now, he wished he'd been in Amestris to see events unfold which resulted in this woman becoming the leader she seemed to have been born to be.

They chatted about inconsequential things, sipping tea and discussing minor events. The Prime Minister eventually turned the discussion to Ed's first big investigation, and she appeared to be very well-informed about what had taken place.

 _Does she get copied on all my reports?_ Ed wondered, a bit panicked by the thought. _Did I call Mustang a bastard in this last one?_

"I knew the Landis family, you know," she said. "Vera and Rafe's mother used to be very involved in the Cause. It's a shame what happened to them."

 _I really don't want to talk about this_ , Ed thought, but he nodded and made a noncommittal affirmative noise, and was relieved when a soft knock at the outer door interrupted them before the Prime Minister could press him for more details.

Wills, who'd been standing invisibly near the door, answered the knock and ushered a small crowd of high-ranking people into the large, airy room.

The Prime Minister stood and welcomed the newcomers. "Take seats, everyone," she said. "You all know Brigadier General Mustang." Nods all around and murmured greetings. "But I don't think any of you have had the chance to meet Major Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist," she continued, gesturing grandly at Ed who tried not to blush.

He stood and bowed to the group, reseating himself to more murmurs and greetings and whispering amongst the newcomers.

 _Gah. Is it too late to quit?_ He thought it probably was, at least right at the moment.

The Prime Minister did not sit back down, but clasped her hands behind her back and began to pace. "Most of you know why you're here, but I'm sure there are gaps in intelligence here and there and Major Elric has been out in the field so has had no chance to catch up to us. Therefore, I will review for everyone's benefit.

"Three weeks ago, we received an official communication from the Emperor of Xing. He wishes to send a delegation to Amestris for diplomatic and educational purposes. As we all know, Xing is directly ruled by the Emperor with no authority invested in either the people or the military. His word is law." She stopped at the far end of the table, having strolled all the way down its length as she spoke. She turned and began to walk back the other way.

"The nature of Xing's request combined with our intelligence — which has uncovered some interesting bits of information about Xing — resulted in the decision to include the Fullmetal and Flame Alchemists in this... mission."

Edward exchanged a quick, intrigued glance with Mustang before returning his full attention to the Prime Minister.

"The alchemy used in Xing does not appear to be quite the same as ours. Xing has alluded to this in its communiqués, requesting that we provide experts in..." she waved a hand through the air as if grasping for a term. "Our brand of alchemy. Experts who will work with the delegation as part of an exchange of ideas, knowledge, expertise, methods..."

"But if we teach them our alchemy, we'll lose whatever elements of surprise we'd have against them in a fight," the Minister of War said.

Ed did recognize him. He was an old-timer, having retired shortly after Ed had been certified originally, almost ten years ago. _General Millet, I think? Mustang did say they'd recalled some of the old guys into active duty after the military purge._

"Do we expect a fight?" Ed asked, hoping it wasn't out of line to just speak up. _Millet did._

The Prime Minister had reached the end of her circuit and paused again, turning to look at Ed. "No way to know." And off she went again, pacing to the far end of the table. "Xing is an enigma. Always has been. This is a very out of character move on their part. We have reason to believe many of the members of the delegation will be the Emperor's own children. And he has many of those." Stop. Turn. Pace. _It's almost hypnotic._

"On the other hand, we must suppose that an exchange would also include their sharing their methods with us. And if this is not the case, I see no need to teach them anything. Show them a few tricks anyone could learn from an elementary alchemy instructor, and send them on their way."

She paused beside her chair and smiled at Ed as if she were about to give him a surprise birthday present, and then said something Edward never in his life expected anyone to ever say to him. "That will be your call, Fullmetal. I, on the advice of your commanders, am making you the head of our delegation. For the duration, you will be seconded to the diplomatic corps but will be directly responsible to me."

Quite a bit more was said, but Ed was sure he missed most of it. The massive concussion he'd just suffered included, he didn't think he'd ever been so stunned in his life.

By the time he and Mustang were standing outside King's Court once more, Ed had gathered himself enough to finally voice the one thought that had been pinging around in his head since the hammer had dropped.

He turned on the brigadier and sputtered, "You recommended _me_ for a diplomatic mission? Are you fucking insane?"

"Hawkeye agreed, and I certainly wasn't going to do it," Mustang snorted. "Let's go have lunch."

"Liar! She said she didn't know!"

"The details, no, but I did ask her advice on this. She thinks you can handle it."

"Well then _she's_ fucking insane, too!"

"Language, Fullmetal. You're a diplomat, now."

"I hate you!" Ed groaned. "I just want to go back into the field! Why won't you people let me go back into the field?"

Mustang laughed. "At the rate you break things? Safer to keep you close to home."

"You think that now! Wait until the Diplomatic Incident."

As they crossed the square, Mustang grew serious. "I know this is a very strange assignment for you, Edward. But I think you can do it. This whole Xing matter could be very dangerous. Xing may be taking advantage of the upheaval we've gone through to test our defenses. You've just had two years of invaluable training for this mission."

"What?" Ed demanded, stopping and turning to stare at Mustang, forcing the older man to stop, too.

"I don't know what happened to you while you were gone, Ed," Mustang said. "But you've said enough for me to know that you were a stranger in a foreign land and had to survive there."

Ed looked away, troubled by the tone of this conversation. _Roy's treating me like an equal. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?_ Their friendship was still in its infancy, and Ed wasn't sure of it yet.

"And you did survive. You even found a way back. You have more experience dealing well with those most in our country see as Other than anyone else I know. You have no blood on your hands from Ishbal. None from Lior, either, no matter what you may think. You won't automatically assume the worst about our visitors, and so you have a chance of making this work."

This breathtaking honesty deserved some equivalent exchange. "Bastard," Ed said without any heat. "I should punch you in the face and quit."

"Quit, then punch," Mustang advised. "Otherwise you'll go to prison for striking a superior officer." But they both knew Ed wasn't going to do either. Playing host to a Xingian embassy in order to protect his country? Ed could hardly turn down that assignment.

Ed didn't know how to tell Winry about what had happened, but when he arrived home, he found she didn't have a thought to spare to so much as ask him how his day had gone. She was far too excited about their plans for the evening. _Good. That'll give me time to figure out what the hell to say so she won't die laughing._

Somehow, during the short time Ed had been away chasing after Vera Landis, Winry had managed to get someone to draw up blueprints, adapting the building they'd purchased into the building she wanted.

The papers were spread out on a large table in their single, cleared room, and Ed studied them, a sandwich purchased at their favorite café in one hand. "I see," he muttered, running a finger along the lines of the house, imprinting the plan into his brain.

"Can you do it? Is it too much?" Winry asked, standing back to give him room and not block the light but barely able to restrain herself from bouncing with excitement. Which Ed would not have minded. _Horrible, horrible man._

"No, this is great, Win," he said, not looking up because he thought he might be blushing again. "You even have the furniture in place."

Winry nodded, but reminded him, "we're going to decorate the normal way, though. Just spiff up what we have, and we can sort it out later."

"Right," Ed agreed. "I remember."

He stuffed the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth and straightened, stretching his back. "Let's go!"

Picking up the blueprints and his suitcase, he herded Winry to the back door and out into the yard. Piles of material she'd gathered to be used in the transmutation were all strewn around the cluttered rooms inside the building. They'd removed anything they wanted to remain unchanged as a precaution, and he set his suitcase down beside the rest of that collection and took a deep breath. This would be the biggest transmutation he'd done since...

 _Take another breath._ He turned to Winry and grinned. "Brace yourself," he said, and she grinned back, her eyes glowing. _God, she's gorgeous._

He walked to the building, clapped his hands together and pressed them against the worn, brick wall.

 _I almost forgot what it feels like_ , he thought. He'd done alchemy since his return, but the biggest stuff he'd done had been in the midst of battle, and he never had time to properly enjoy it under those circumstances. _Concentrate_ , he reminded himself, letting his mind fill with all the details of what he was working to make.

The lines of the blueprint were like the lines of an array, burned into his brain with mathematical precision and logic. The architect had done a very good job — the house would be beautiful structurally as well as visually.

_This is for Winry. This is for Alphonse. This is for... me. Yes._

This was what he'd wanted. For years and years and years. The meaning of the etched date and words in his pocket watch. The meaning of all his and Al's struggling. The meaning behind his desperation to get back from the other side of the Gate. Everything he wanted. All he'd ever wanted.

_Home._


	2. "This is really going to screw up my love life."

"Why do these things always happen to me?" Alphonse Elric wondered aloud as he walked from the train station toward his new home.

The kitten in his arms didn't seem at all worried about this prospect, only snuggling closer, pressing its nose into the crook of his arm. It had been easier to smuggle cats back when he'd been armor. Now he was just going to have to face up to Edward's annoyance. His duffle was too full of laundry and books to fit one more thing in it, anyway, let alone anything alive.

Alphonse sighed. He'd chosen to walk to the new house, even though it was some distance from the station, because he spent so much time indoors studying these days. The air was cool and beginning to sharpen into that middle time between fall and winter when either snow or rain, cold or warmth could be expected.

He finally reached the corner where he would turn to go to his new home. Their home. _Well, Edward and Winry's home._ But Ed had insisted it was _their_ home. Alphonse just wasn't sure where he was going to end up after he finished at university. He wanted to come back to Central, and maybe work at the hospital. He imagined being in surgery with Winry working beside him, and he smiled. To think they might someday be able to do that! To work together. That amazed him, but then, the feel of the wind against his skin, the warmth of the kitten snuggling in his arms, even the acrid scent of sulfur in the wind as he passed a roadwork crew  all of these things amazed him.

The street had no proper name, only a number. West Seventh Street, and their house was number 503. And there it was.

"Wow," Al muttered, easing his duffle to the sidewalk so he could just look at the place. Edward had done a beautiful job on the house, though the exterior changes were subtle. Unless someone paid close attention, it was likely they wouldn't notice the differences or would dismiss them as due to simple house repairs. But Alphonse could see the changes.

The building had been a vast brick pile, sturdy but woefully neglected and a bit too blocky to have true character. The changes Ed had made gave it character and them some. It had style and beauty and a certain exotic flavor that set it apart from the rest of the buildings on the street without making it look like it didn't belong. A very impressive achievement, indeed.

The windows sparkled, and all of them were taller than they'd been. The window sills were pristine white stone, which set them off from the warm, golden-red brick of the walls. The roof rose to a full three floors  a bit taller than before but not obnoxiously so. Maybe no one else would notice the rich tile, replacing the more pedestrian shingles, but Alphonse was deeply impressed. The door seemed wider, too, and was unpainted, glossy dark wood framing a large, stained-glass window.

"Okay, here we go," Al told the kitten, and he picked up his bag and walked up the front steps to the door. Winry answered his knock, her expression harried.

"Oh, thank God," she exclaimed, waving him into the house. "He's _freaking_ out. You will _never_ believe what Mustang's done this time."

Edward stood at the bottom of an elaborate, swooping staircase  a work of pure art Al wished he had time to admire at that moment  with a suffused expression on his face. His mouth was open as if the words he wanted to scream were stuck somewhere in his throat, and he was staring in pure, furious horror at a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

"That. Bastard," he finally managed to choke out. "I am going to kill him."

"Edward," Winry said, trying to be soothing. "It isn't really his fault this time. You know that."

"Yes, but I can't _kill_ the Prime Minister, and this never would have happened if Mustang hadn't thrown me into this mess in the first place!"

"Niisan, sit down!" Alphonse exclaimed. "You look like you're about to explode. What's happened?"

Winry rolled her eyes at Ed as she looked over at Alphonse. "Oh, he's been promoted. You'd _think_ he'd been sentenced to hard labor."

"You don't understand, Winry!" Ed nearly screeched. "This means I'm not going to be a field agent _ever again!_ And what about my research?"

"They couldn't very well have a major running a diplomatic mission of this importance," Winry argued reasonably. "You have to have the authority to boss everyone around. You _like_ bossing people around!"

Clearly this drama had been going on for some time, and both Ed and Winry looked almost exhausted by their circular  argument? It didn't seem to be that so much as... Al couldn't quite tell. He didn't think Ed really minded the promotion. It was everything that this implied, Al thought. Being a grown-up. Having real responsibility to something beyond himself and his family. Having expectations. Ed could handle all of that, but was he ready to admit that he could? That seemed to be the true issue at hand.

At moments like this, the best way Alphonse had found to calm Edward down was to simply change the subject. He held up the kitten who yawned adorably but otherwise didn't seem to mind being hoisted out and displayed. "Look! I found a kitten! Can we keep it?"

Scieszka didn't think she was up to being the assistant to a diplomat. Edward, she could manage. Major Elric she could manage. They understood each other, and he appreciated her abilities and understood her quirks as no one else ever had. Truth was, she had a bit of a crush on him. Not that she'd ever admit it. He and Winry were meant for each other  at least that's what her romantic, matchmaking heart told her.

She sighed, wishing she could find someone meant for her, too. Someone like Edward but not quite so... much. This was what made Winry so perfect for him. He didn't scare her or overwhelm her. Her personality wasn't pushed out of the room by the force of his. She held her own against the Fullmetal Alchemist as almost no one else could. Even Mustang seemed a bit flattened in comparison.

And she felt sure she was going to be completely flattened and then ground into powder by this new mission. But she couldn't quit. Ed needed someone he knew, someone he could rely on, and someone who knew him so that he could succeed. And it was important that they succeed. The thought of another war was too scary for failure to be an option.

She looked at the boxes she'd packed up, full of the odds and ends they both found essential to doing their jobs. New, albeit temporary, offices had been assigned to them over in King's Court. A new staff, too, of diplomatic underlings who knew the ins, outs, ways, and means of that world. What she and Edward were going to do, thrown in with that crowd, she had no idea.

 _Colonel Elric. Not even_ Lieutenant _Colonel. Just straight up to Colonel. Wow._ So much for Hawkeye being his commanding officer. She wondered if that would bother him. He'd liked being under her command, Scieszka could tell. It had been a more comfortable chain of command, and she had shown him more respect than Mustang ever had. _Not that he or Mustang show much respect to anyone else,_ Scieszka allowed.

"This is going to be so weird," she muttered.

"Don't let it bother you," Hawkeye said. Scieszka whirled, startled, to find the lieutenant colonel leaning against the doorframe. "I'm used to Edward outranking me."

"It's a lot of change all at once."

"That seems to be the way of things, these days. If anyone can handle it, I think it's Edward."

Scieszka didn't reply, but she nodded at this. If Hawkeye thought it would be fine, she expected it must be true.

"I'm sending Falman with you. I discussed it with him, and he volunteered. I'd like to send a few more of ours with Edward, but we can't invade the diplomatic corps with a military detachment. The three of you should be enough to turn things on end."

Scieszka usually forgot about her own status as an officer, for she was just an ensign. The rank seemed virtually meaningless to her since she didn't even carry a weapon, and she accepted it only so she could work in this world with these people she'd come to respect. She was administrative staff only, though Hawkeye had made her go through some training.

"Yes, sir," she said softly, saluting.

Hawkeye gave her an encouraging wink, said, "You'll do fine," and returned to her office.

Alphonse couldn't get over his shock at Edward's reaction. His brother's face had lit up as if someone had switched on a light behind his eyes, and he'd darted across the room to take a closer look at the kitten.

"Hey, Win, what do you think?" he'd asked.

The turnabout seemed to have taken Winry by surprise, too, but she recovered quickly. "I was thinking we should get a pet. I guess I was thinking of a dog, but"

"We could get a dog, too, if you want," Ed said. "Let me hold it," he said to Al, reaching for the kitten.

 _Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Edward Elric!_ For a fleeting moment, Alphonse wondered if his brother had been the one to come back from the other side of the Gate, or if this was some otherworldly, kitten-loving doppelganger sent to taunt them all.

The kitten squirmed around, mewing cheerfully, and climbed up onto Ed's shoulder where it began to groom. Ed grinned like a five-year-old.

"I like it!" he announced. "Is it a boy or girl?"

"We'll have to take it to the veterinarian, make sure it's healthy, buy food and a litter box, and..." Winry left the room, still listing out what they needed to do as new cat owners. When she came back, she was still talking but she was also scribbling down her list on a notepad. "... the vet can tell us the gender. Until then, let's not pick a name. We don't want the whole 'Den' thing to happen again, do we?"

"Al, you get to name it," Ed said. "But you haven't seen your room yet! Come on!" He dashed up the staircase, one hand steadying the kitten, the other waving at his brother to follow.

The crumpled paper he'd been holding now lay on a small table at the foot of the staircase, and Alphonse paused to look at it before following.

Winry stood beside him and watched, waiting for his reaction.

"Good grief," Al muttered. "Colonel?"

"I know," Winry agreed.

"Well, no wonder he freaked out."

"I _know_."

"Are they trying to kill him?" Al demanded.

"I know!"

"I better go talk to Mustang myself," Al grumbled, but Ed yelled down, interrupting.

"Come _on!_ "

And Al hurried up the stairs after him.

 _You can do this. You've defeated homunculi, restored your brother's body, performed human alchemy and lived, came back from another world, and set up a house with Winry Rockbell._ This _should be easy._

Even so, Edward barely suppressed a gulp as he, Scieszka, and Falman walked into King's Court for the first time, saluted in by the Parliamentary Guardsmen on duty.

The three of them had agreed to meet at a nearby coffee shop and go together. Better to cross the threshold of that imposing building in formation, each one bolstering the other's confidence.

Wills, who seemed to malinger for a living, had apparently been waiting on them in the vast entrance hall, and he walked over the moment they appeared.

"Colonel Elric!" he sang out, and Ed was sure he didn't imagine that everyone in earshot whirled around to stare at him. "Welcome. I presume this is your staff?"

Ed nodded and feigned nonchalance, though he'd flinched a bit at the use of his rank. His uniform felt oddly weighted down by the new hardware.

"Yes, may I present Second Lieutenant Falman and Ensign... Scieszka." As he introduced them, it dawned on Ed that he didn't know Scieszka's first name... or last name... or _which name is "Scieszka," anyway?_

"I'm the Prime Minister's personal secretary," Wills continued, nodding as he was introduced. "If you need anything, please let me know." He began what turned into something of a speech as he guided them through the vast building, taking the main staircase  a wide, gleaming marble expanse that swept up to a landing and then back around to the next floor as staircases in this sort of building always seemed to do.

"Your offices are on the second floor, and I must tell you, they are some of the finest in the building. The Prime Minister's suite is one floor directly above yours, so she'll be easy for you to find. Colonel Elric, you are on her calendar for luncheon today. Several others will be in attendance as well, so it will be formal. She wants you to meet everyone so you'll know whom to talk to about whatever issues arise from your mission.

"As to that, you have a briefing with the head of the diplomatic corps in one hour. That should give you a bit of time to settle in, have some coffee, and read over the files on your desk. They're marked so you can familiarize yourself with the important points."

Wills babbled on like this, ruthless and efficient, for another few moments then dragged Scieszka off to show her where the office supplies were kept.

Ed resisted dropping his head into his hands and screaming only because Falman was standing nearby at parade rest. Instead, he said, "All right, then! Let's get to work," and he retreated into the inner office which already had his name, rank, and titles carefully painted onto the glass:

Colonel Edward Elric  
Fullmetal Alchemist  
Special Attaché for Xingian Affairs.

He sat down behind his desk. A very big, far-too-clean desk. There were windows lining one wall of his office, giving him a picturesque view of the plaza and Central HQ. It seemed very far away, at that moment, and Ed wished he could undo the events of the past several days. He didn't feel ready for this burden, but it was far too late to back out. The Xingians would be arriving in a matter of days, and he had only those days to catch himself up on everything Amestris knew about Xing.

_And do whatever it takes to prevent another war... yeah. 'Cause I'm so good at that._

But the real reason he was upset by all of this was so selfish  and so annoyingly _Mustang-ish_  he was embarrassed to admit it. _This is really going to screw up my love life._

The kitten turned out to be a girl cat, and Alphonse was having trouble thinking up a name for it. Winry wasn't being much help, and in fact made it worse by commenting on the fact that, "she looks just like Ed, but don't tell him I said so."

This was true, now that Al really looked at the kitten. She had long, bright golden fur with a bit that stuck up at an odd angle between her ears, bright golden eyes, and a sort of manic glare when she went into one of those cat rampages and tore around the house. _Very much like Edward._ It would never, ever do to say so to Ed. If anything might destroy his surprising affection for the kitten, it would be to compare him to it. Compared to something small and furry and cute? He would _hate_ that.

And they couldn't have two Eds in one house, anyway. One Ed was quite enough for any house to have to deal with.

Al knew he should be studying  fall break or no fall break  but he was enjoying too much being back in a house he could think of as his own. The Rockbell house had been _like_ home, but it had not _been_ home. This house was. _We're never burning this one down, no matter what happens._

"Don't give her a people-name," Winry said as she passed by the door to the room they were setting up as a study. She had her arms full of... automail things, Al guessed, and had been going back and forth past the study for quite some time, frequently making a comment as she passed. At this comment, though, Al decided to get up and pursue her line of thought.

"What kind of name, then? I can't think of anything but 'Ed,' now, thanks to you!"

Winry set down the latest armload on one of the already-crowded worktable surfaces with a lot of accompanying noise then turned to him with a thoughtful frown on her face. "A thing-name, I think. You know, something cute."

"Like _what_!"

She shook her head, almost laughing. "Honestly, Al. You've wanted a cat all this time. Now you finally have one, and you can't even think up a name for it?"

Al shrugged, helplessly. "I want to be a doctor, not a poet!" he protested.

An evil gleam in her eye, Winry suggested, "How about Bean?"

"Winry!"

"Or FurMetal?"

Al giggled in spite of himself and tried to glare at his friend.

"The Little Colonel?"

"Stop it!"

"She needs a name, Al. If she doesn't have one, she can't properly ignore us when we call her."

"How about Goldie?" Al suggested. It was _almost_ naming her after Ed, but Al thought it would be far too subtle for Ed to get it. He and Winry would know, but maybe no one else would catch on. And he kind of liked the name.

Winry thought it over, her eyes narrowed as if considering it from all angles. "I like it. It's simple, but it fits her."

"Okay, then, but no more short comments. I want Ed to keep liking her!"

"That was weird, huh?" Winry agreed, turning back to her worktable where she started sorting through the pile. "Almost more of a shock than the whole house thing."

"I know," Al agreed. Their lives had changed more than any of them had ever expected, especially after the disasters which had shattered all of their childhoods. "It makes you think anything's possible."

"Anything's possible," observed the Prime Minister  or, "Call me Georgie," as she'd said when Ed had arrived. "They could be coming for exactly the reasons they've given. We certainly don't want to play our hand as if we expect violence."

Photographs, reports, dossiers, charts, and transcripts of interviews were being piled up by every new arrival to the meeting which followed the formal luncheon. Everyone in the diplomatic corps and government, it seemed, was taking the opportunity presented by the arrival of the new Special Attaché to dump all their Xing worries on him.

The room finally cleared, leaving only Ed and the Prime Minister. "Madame Prime Minister," he said at last. "Are you sure you want me to do this?"

"Georgie!" she insisted, smiling. "And, yes. I'm sure. You forget, I've read _all_ the reports. I know what you're capable of. And it may be that we're all worrying for nothing. This may be a lark! Just parties and presentations and no threats whatsoever." She stood up, bringing their meeting to an end. "Wills, see that all of this gets to Edward's office. We may need to assign a few more clerks to his staff to help sort through everything, so pull a few profiles for his review."

Wills appeared as if he'd stepped out of the wallpaper, bowed slightly, and disappeared again, apparently to summon minions.

Ed bowed, too, and made his escape. The piles and piles of papers would follow after him, transported by Wills' magical efficiency.

As to magical efficiency, Scieszka had somehow timed his return perfectly, and she presented him with a cup of his favorite coffee. And more paperwork.

"I'm sorry, sir, but people have been dropping things off and calling all day! Everyone needs signatures and approvals  I'm not even sure what all of this is for!"

Ed dropped into his chair and sighed. "I don't have to _plan_ the social events," Ed explained, when a glance at some of the papers informed him of their meaning. "But I do have to authorize everything for them."

As he'd expected, it would be a late evening. He wanted to apologize to Scieszka and Falman, but they'd volunteered. He wanted to apologize to Al and Winry, but he'd already warned them not to expect him back until late.

"I'll order supper," Scieszka said and left him alone to read and sign and otherwise continue his transformation into Mustang's shorter, blonder, grumpier double.

It certainly wasn't what he'd expected when he'd decided to stay in the military. And he'd _never_ make any headway on his chimera research if he had to spend all of his time sorting through paperwork. _No wonder Mustang's such a one-note alchemist._ It was an incredibly effective note, granted, but still. Ed never wanted to stop learning more about what he could do.

But as the first pile dwindled and more piles arrived, conveyed by Wills' minions to be sorted and organized by Scieszka and Falman before ending up on Ed's desk in an unending circle, Ed thought about what the Xingians had asked. _An exchange of alchemic knowledge. Maybe they already know how to do what I want to do. Or maybe they know something that will make it possible._

The idea of what he could learn from them was exciting, and enough  if what they knew was even a little bit new and different  to make up for any amount of paperwork.

He'd finally sent Scieszka and Falman home two hours earlier, and he'd reached the end of one of the more fascinating reports, when Ed noticed the time and realized he needed to go home and get some sleep or be useless the next day.

He muttered darkly to himself as he trudged down the main staircase and across the entrance hall. "Xingian language lessons in the morning... Another lunch meeting... More meetings after that... What are we meeting about? Everyone's just dumping everything on me..."

He'd cleared the main entrance with a bare nod at the guards and had reached the plaza when he sensed that someone was watching him. _Better. Maybe I won't get bashed over the head this time._ He whirled to face the only cover available to an assailant, his body falling into a defensive stance automatically.

But the person who stood before him didn't look all that dangerous. "Fullmetal Alchemist?" he asked, his voice oddly accented. He had long black hair, tied back and his clothes looked very comfortable. And foreign.

"Yes," Ed replied, wary as he slowly eased into a more neutral posture. "And you are?"

The young man bowed, and when he straightened once more, Ed was greeted by a wide, delighted grin. "I am Yao Ling, 12th son of the Emperor of Xing, and I have run ahead of my siblings to meet you, for I wish to be first among them all and inherit my father's throne!"

Ed stared at the young man. _Okay, this is it. Diplomacy time._ But all he managed to say was, "...really?"

"Yes! I have heard stories about you, Edward Elric. I know _you_ are the one who can help me."

Ed blinked. Helping just one of the many members of the Xingian embassy didn't seem very diplomatic to him, but telling this Yao Ling person that didn't seem to be a better option. "How can I help you?" he asked, stalling.

"I need the Philosopher's Stone! You must tell me how to get one!"

 **Author's Note:  
** I want to apologize WAY in advance if the Xing characters are or eventually go OOC during the course of this story. Since their plotline by and large can't exist in the anime universe, especially this late in the story, I can't be sure I will be able to keep them in character completely while moving this new plotline forward.


	3. "Maybe this diplomat thing isn't so bad after all."

Edward was hoping he'd heard wrong, but after a moment's stunned silence, the strange young man repeated himself.

"I said, I need the Philosopher's Stone!"

"... are you serious?" Ed demanded, glaring.

"Very!" But that same, almost silly smile stayed firmly in place.

"What do you need it for? It isn't exactly something you just walk up to someone and demand," Ed said. That he'd done just that himself his first time in Lior could be dismissed now as youthful over-enthusiasm, he thought.

"Immortality!" Yao Ling announced, still smiling that delighted smile.

Ed frowned. He supposed immortality was possible using the Philosopher's Stone, though not the way Yao Ling probably expected. It would be an ugly immortality, full of murder.

"Sorry," Ed said. "Can't help you. I gave up on the Philosopher's Stone myself years ago."

The Parliamentary Guards had apparently spotted them and decided the scene was suspicious enough to investigate. At that moment, they arrived, pelting down the long staircase, rifles at the ready.

"Colonel Elric, sir. Are you all right!" one of them shouted.

Sighing, Ed nodded. "Yeah. Just one of the Xing people arriving early is all. Has Beatrice gone home yet?" Beatrice was head of protocol. She'd know what to do with this person.

"Afraid so, sir. Hours ago."

Ed rolled his eyes and felt suddenly very tired. _God. Whatever._ "Well, let's go then, Mr. Yao Ling. You can stay at my place tonight, and we'll sort everything out in the morning. And you, too, in the bushes. Come on."

A rustling noise preceded the sudden appearance of a masked individual, clothed in many layers of tough-looking fabric and clearly armed to the teeth. The person's body language looked... _embarrassed?_

"This is Ran Fan. And you may call me Ling," Ling said, still smiling what was quickly becoming, for Ed, a really infuriating smile.

"I _am_ the Special Liaison," Ed said tiredly. "And we can't let them just camp in the street."

Winry stared at the strange tableau which met her when she opened the door. She'd wondered why Ed had knocked, and now she knew. A person couldn't just walk right in trailed by two such people as he had in tow.

"Hey, Winry," Ed said. He looked exhausted. "This is Ling and his bodyguard Ran Fan. They got here early so I was going to put them up for the night if that's okay."

"Sure!" Winry blurted, backing up to allow them all inside. Al, holding Goldie almost as if he'd forgotten she was there, stared, too. Not because either he or she were completely ill-mannered but because Ling toppled face-first through the door and lay sprawled across the floor. Where he stayed unmoving, emitting weak groans.

Winry whirled on Ran Fan. "What's wrong with him? Do we need a doctor?"

The blank mask gave back nothing, but a word emerged from the groans and Al exclaimed. "Oh! He's hungry."

Winry dashed for the kitchen where she began pulling out everything edible, including the leftovers she and Al had saved for Ed's dinner, and arranging it on the counter. "We have plenty to eat. Bring him" but she stop in mid-sentence. Sitting at the counter, digging into Ed's supper, sat Ling as if this was how it was supposed to be.

"Help yourself," she amended, faint-voiced. She turned to the masked person and said. "You, too. Please."

"Yesh, Bran Fran," Ling said through a full mouth. "Eath."

Ed rolled his eyes and passed by the kitchen on his way to his room. Winry gave Al a significant look  _Stay here!_  and followed Ed.

"What wrong, Ed?" she asked after they'd reached the landing and were out of earshot of the kitchen.

"Aside from them getting here too early before anything's ready and when no one else was around to help at the end of a day so long it lasted something like fifteen hours?" he asked, turning toward her with an ironic smile.

"Yes," Winry prompted. "Aside from that. It's no trouble, you know. We can put them up for the night."

Ed sighed. "He's looking for the Philosopher's Stone. He 'ran ahead' to find me first so he could ask me about it. Which means there might be others looking for it, too."

Winry shook her head, as stunned as she thought Ed must feel. "Why do they want that? Don't they know what?"

"I don't know what they know about it," Ed admitted. He sat down on a step almost as if he were collapsing and leaned forward, burying his head in his hands. "I should never have rejoined the military," he whispered. "But I thought I could do some good."

Winry sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulders, glad she was sitting so her hand was on his real arm. She wanted him to feel the reassurance she was trying to give him. "You're exhausted," she said. "In the morning, you can turn them over to whoever minds foreign visitors and"

"And what?" Ed demanded, though she thought he was demanding it of the room or the air or himself and not her. "I can't get him one  not that I even would!  and if I tell him how one is made, how do I know he wouldn't find the human cost acceptable? We don't know anything about Xing. But they came here to exchange knowledge. If I'd known what knowledge they wanted-!"

Winry gave him a little hug and he seemed to settle in closer to her. Then, to her surprise, he rested his head on her shoulder. "I have things I want to do, but all this stuff keeps happening... maybe when this is over, I should quit."

Silence settled over them for a time. Winry was trying to organize all the thoughts banging around in her head so that she could say something that might be helpful. At last, she ventured, "Whatever you really want to do, Ed, you should do. You've spent your whole life doing what you thought you had to... what you thought you owed everyone else... I think you should do what _you_ want to do. At least once."

He looked up at her from the odd, sideways angle his head resting on her shoulder gave him. And he smiled the sweetest smile she'd ever seen.

Ed had taken her breath away before. A quick look. A sudden smile. An infuriating statement. But this was breathlessness that reached throughout her entire body and left her shaking.

_Or is Ed the one who's shaking?_

He turned toward her, reaching with his automail hand to catch her cheek, and the kiss happened as easily as that.

The thought ran through Winry's mind  _When Ed decides to do something, he never hesitates_  and she batted it away, wanting to experience this moment uninterrupted.

The feel of cool metal fingers on her cheek contrasted with the heat of Ed's mouth pressed to hers, and more thoughts bubbled up into her brain. _Never let this end  I never want this to end  I never want to lose him again. Never, never, never, never..._

Without a conscious thought, her hand reached up to tangle itself in Ed's silken, gold hair and pull him even closer. _Never leave me again._

Ed stopped kissing her, and she almost cried out for him _not_ to stop, her hand tightening in his hair to keep him from getting away and her other hand  which had somehow migrated down to tangle in Ed's shirtfront, also held on tighter. But all he did was whisper, " _This_ is what I want," before he kissed her again.

Alphonse watched Ling and Ran Fan eat with something akin to wonder. He'd moved them to the nearby table and carried the food from the counter for them, all the while marveling at the spectacle. They reminded him of Ed and how he'd practically inhaled all food in his vicinity when he'd been younger, and this memory made him look fondly on the foreign visitors.

Ran Fan with mask removed turned out to be a young woman about Winry's age. She reminded him, in her unreadable expressions and obvious toughness, of Riza Hawkeye.

When they'd worked their way through most of what Winry had set out for them, Al muttered, "Wow. You must've been really hungry." Ran Fan only nodded and Ling smiled broadly, leaning back in his chair with a happy sigh.

"Traveling is exhausting," he said. "And the Great Eastern Desert is harsh."

"You came across the desert?" Al blurted. "I though you were coming by ship!"

"Everyone else is coming by ship. We wanted to get here first," Ling said. "Others will have the same questions for the Fullmetal Alchemist. We cannot risk losing the advantage. If my clan is to take its rightful place as first in our land, we must achieve our goal!"

Al blinked. "What's your goal?" he asked, nonplussed by Ling's exuberant confidence.

Ling answered him with such stunning matter-of-factness, Al was certain at first he'd misheard the young man. "To find the Philosopher's Stone and achieve immortality."

"EEEEEDD!" Al's voice shouted, cutting through Ed and Winry's reverie. They nearly leapt apart as if Al had caught them, then laughed at their reaction.

"What are we, kids?" Ed snorted. He was flushed and blushing, and he could see Winry was, too. With a soft smile, he thought, _Al can handle whatever's going on,_ and leaned in to kiss her again.

"Ed! Come here RIGHT NOW!"

"Dammit," Ed muttered, but he clambered to his feet and straightened his clothes while memories of the last few moments swirled in his head. Winry's fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. Her fingernails running in delightful patterns so close to his skin. Her lips so soft and warm and... _Soft..._

"EDWARD ELRIC!"

"Better go," Winry giggled, then she nearly doubled over as laughter overwhelmed her.

Ed hurried down the stairs, trying to squelch his own reflexive laughter, but his desire to laugh vanished at the sight of Al's furious face.

"They want the Philosopher's Stone!" his younger brother said, so agitated, he couldn't seem to stand still. "Did you know that?"

Another sigh escaped as reality came crashing back down around him. "Yeah, I knew. Sorry, Al, but"

"But what?" Al demanded. "Why did you bring them here? You aren't going to help them, are you?"

"Of course not!" Ed hissed. "But I'm supposed to be a diplomat, remember? I'm going to figure this out and handle it... diplomatically."

Al snorted dubiously, and Ed felt that this was terribly unfair. _Younger brothers should show more respect!_

"Your wife is very beautiful, Fullmetal Alchemist."

Ed whirled to find Ling standing right beside them. _How'd he do that? Wait... wife?_

But Al beat him to it. "Wife?"

"The lovely, yellow-haired woman over there," Ling said, pointing.

Winry was coming down the stairs just then, looking much more composed than when Ed had last seen her. _Ling is right. She is very beautiful..._

"Oh, they aren't married," Al began, and Ling swooshed away from them, to meet Winry as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Beautiful lady," he exclaimed, taking her hand in both of his. "Why do you stay with this oaf who will not marry you?"

Winry looked at Al and Ed, clearly bewildered. "What?"

"I am the son of the Emperor of Xing"

"You're a _prince_?" Al squeaked.

"And it would be my honor if you would agree to become _my_ wife"

The corner of Winry's mouth turned up in an odd half-smile, but Ed saw no more, the scene melting away to a pinpoint of Ling's face which Ed now wanted to beat into the ground and then stomp on and then beat again.

_I... am not... cut out... to be... a DIPLOMAT!_

Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye picked up the envelope again and examined it. The paper was heavy. Expensive. Its contents were arranged in one of those mysterious, complicated ways that indicated what it contained was of the utmost social importance. Social importance rather than military.

For Riza, to receive an envelope like the one she held in her hand was a very rare and unique thing.

She didn't know what to do with it.

Mustang breezed in just then, and she, distracted by the envelope, she only smiled at him at first. Realizing her mistake, she shot to her feet and saluted. "Sir!"

"At ease, Hawkeye," he said, flipping a casual return salute in her direction and dropping into the chair opposite her desk. "Quiet around here without Fullmetal, isn't it?"

"It was quiet here _with_ him," she replied. "He's such an intensely-focused researcher. I think that's where his gifts are strongest."

"We should find some way to redirect him down that path," Mustang agreed. "Save the architecture of Amestris from his 'field work.'"

A comfortable silence fell between them, and Riza's attention slowly returned to the envelope.

After a long stretch of quiet, Mustang said, "I see you got your invitation."

"'Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye and Guest'  what guest do they mean?"

Mustang laughed, and it was _almost_ a real, full laugh.

His real laugh was a beautiful thing, but she hadn't heard it in such a long time. It had once been common  ringing out from his office whenever Maes Hughes would drop by and sometimes after he'd driven off Edward with a particularly childish piece of teasing. She'd only begun to hear it again now that Edward had returned. Odd that the young man should step into that role for Roy Mustang. But it seemed fitting. Mustang needed a friend who wasn't afraid to tell him he was an idiot.

She'd never been able to be that casual with him. She could call him an idiot but not in any way that would bring about laughter. There was too much history, too much mutual respect, too much serious business between them... _I wish I knew how to make him laugh like that._

"Whatever guest you want, Hawkeye," Mustang said. "Everyone from the rank of major on up was invited, so you can have your pick of the captains and lieutenants."

Riza knew she looked prim and disapproving at that and wished she didn't. "Fraternization is against the rules, sir," she pointed out.

"A real shame, too," Mustang said softly, his low, raspy voice as rich as his laugh. "I don't have a 'guest,' either." And with that, he stood, flicked her another casual salute in return for her own, crisp one, and left.

Riza stared at the door for a long time after Mustang had disappeared through it and down the hallway and with the same blank incomprehension with which she'd been staring at the envelope. _Did he just_ flirt _with me?_

Scieszka stared at the rich, creamy envelope with slow-dawning horror. "...and guest?" she whispered. "Who on earth am I going to invite?"

Falman glanced over at her, a frown on his face, but she didn't think he heard her words. The tone of her voice was enough to make people frown, though. She was deeply dismayed and mortified and aghast. No thesaurus had enough variations on the word "horror" to properly express what she was feeling.

 _I helped compile the list, and I was very, very careful... so how did_ I _get invited to the ball?_

Ling and Ran Fan were gone when morning dawned, and Ed wasn't sure if he should be worried about that or relieved. Winry and Alphonse had conspired quickly to run interference between Ling and Ed, so Ed had not, after all, murdered his guest/diplomatic responsibility for daring to... _propose to my girlfriend._

Girlfriend. He liked the word. He needed to propose the word to Winry himself and see if she liked it.

He'd stopped on the way into the office that morning and ordered flowers to be sent to the house for her. You were supposed to send flowers to someone you'd kissed, especially if you ever wanted to kiss her again. He was sure Mustang had mentioned that at some point. Bastard he may have been, but he did know about women, so Ed had always made sure to pay attention when he talked about that kind of thing.

He realized he was staring out the window for the fourth time since he'd arrived at the office that morning, his mind fuzzy with thoughts of the kiss, and he looked quickly back down at the papers on his desk. Falman kept throwing him curious frowns and Scieszka seemed to be having one of her minor stress breakdowns, so he'd have to ask her about that pretty soon.

But first, he'd had to write up and file a report about Ling and Ran Fan. Now, he was working on an alert to be distributed to the various agencies around the city so that no one would arrest them or abuse them in any way that would violate diplomatic protocol. _Such as killing one of them for PROPOSING TO MY GIRLFRIEND!_

He'd just handed the alert to Falman to deliver and returned to his desk when he noticed, at last, the envelope sitting in his in-tray. _Ah, so the invitations have gone out. Good. Right on schedule._ He'd have to tell Scieszka good work. That'd be a good lead into finding out what was freaking her out this time.

"Colonel Edward Elric and Guest," he muttered to himself. _Winry, of course._ He'd never seen her all dressed up for anything before. That'd be nice. He smiled, remembering the balls he'd attended in London. He'd ended up acting as escort for his patron's foster daughter on more than one occasion and found out he kind of liked them. He'd even managed to dance pretty well on his damaged automail leg. _Just think how well I'll dance now that the thing works right._

"Sir, if I may speak freely?" Falman said, and Ed noticed the man was standing on the other side of his desk. And probably had been for awhile.

 _Sigh._ "Yeah, go ahead."

"I believe Scieszka is having some kind of a breakdown"

"I noticed, but I had to write up some reports first"

"And I think you may be, too. Sir."

Ed glared at the man. "I am _not_ having a breakdown," he snapped.

"You keep staring out the window for long periods of time and muttering to yourself," Falman pointed out.

Ed rolled his eyes. "How does that constitute breaking-down?"

"Every so often, in the middle of a calm stretch, you growl, 'I'll kill him!' and then you go right back to smiling."

"For heaven's sake, Falman," a far-too-familiar voice said, coming from the vicinity of Ed's office door. "Haven't you ever seen a man in love before?"

Scieszka shot up from her desk and dashed into the office, seeming not to even see Brigadier General Roy Mustang who usually intimidated the hell out of her. "In love?" she squeaked. "Oh, sir, did you finally confess to her?"

"Fullmetal!" Mustang exclaimed, walking into the room and leaning over the desk to study him as if he were an alchemy array. "When did you start wearing glasses?"

 _Shit!_ Ed knew he was blushing bright red. _I'm a colonel! This shouldn't be happening!_ He might as well have been fifteen again and surrounded by Mustang's entire, taunting staff. "All of you. Get out of my office." He rose slowly from his chair, his hands clenched into fists resting white-knuckled against the desktop. "Right. Now."

Falman and Scieszka fled, but Mustang remained, leaning casually against the desk. "I just came to see how you were doing" he began.

"Out!" Ed shouted.

"Fullmetal, are you forgetting that I outrank you?" Mustang asked, feigning innocence.

But this time, Ed knew he had the upper hand. A truly evil smile twisted his lips, and he nearly laughed out loud when he saw the surprise and wariness register in the Bastard General's eyes. "I'm not in your chain of command, right now, General, and as I report to the Prime Minister directly, I rather think that _I,_ in effect, outrank _you_. Or didn't you want to go to the ball?"

Mustang's eyes widened in horror as the threat hit home. "You wouldn't," he whispered.

"Just try me," Ed retorted. "Now get out, and let me finish my work!"

And for once in his life, Edward Elric had the satisfaction of watching an impotently furious Roy Mustang flee _his_ office.

_Maybe this diplomat thing isn't so bad after all._


	4. "I'll kick you if you say Mustang."

Winry's plans to officially open for business the following Monday were being brutally impacted by the distraction of the flowers.

Al had summed up her feelings precisely: "Ed sent flowers? I didn't think he even knew people did that kind of stuff."

 _It's real, then. I didn't dream it. He isn't going to pretend it never happened. Oh. My. God._ She had to tell Gracia. She had to tell her _right now._

Ed called seven times before he managed to get through on the telephone. "Is something wrong?" he demanded when Winry finally picked up.

"Oh, Ed!" she exclaimed, sounding very happy. "I was on the phone with Gracia, but I should have called and thanked you for the flowers first. I"

"Want to have lunch? You can thank me then." He tried to make this sound light and roguish. He'd always wanted to seem roguish.

A wail answered this question, surprising Ed. "Oh, no! I'm meeting Gracia. I'm so sorry! I can cancel"

 _Wow. She's offering to cancel Gracia for me... she_ is _my girlfriend!_ "No," he said, quickly. "You can't drop Gracia for _me_. That wouldn't be right. We'll do dinner, okay?"

"And Al  he only has one more day and then back to school."

 _Aigh! That's right. I can't believe I forgot... damn it... well, no smooching at dinner, then._ "Right. Absolutely. We'll go to the Glass Harp. I hear it's really good."

"I'll have to wear a dress," Winry said, sounding pleased.

"Speaking of that," Ed continued, letting his chair turn around so he was looking out the windows. Falman was peering around the door at him again. _I am_ not _having a breakdown, dammit. I am_ flirting _with my girlfriend!_ "I received a very official-looking envelope today, and it _says_ 'Colonel Edward Elric and Guest.' So I was wondering, if you aren't doing anything next Friday"

A loud gasp came from the other end of the line. "Next Friday! Oh my God, Ed! Are you talking about THAT? The Ambassador's Ball?"

_How did she hear about that? Oh... Scieszka. Right._

"Yeah, that's it. Wanna go? You'll have to get all dressed up. I'm not sure if I have to do the dress uniform thing, or if I can just wear a tux."

There was nothing else to call the sound that screamed through the phone at that but a "squee." She definitely was squeeing over this. _Geez, you'd think I'd just bought her a new wrench._

"Yes! Just wait until I tell Gracia Oh! Ed, I have to go if I'm going to meet her on time." Ed heard another voice in the background. "Here, talk to Al. Gotta go! Thank you! Bye!"

After a silence just long enough to make Ed wonder if she'd accidentally hung up on him, Al came on the line.

"You invited her to the ball?" Al asked, sounding a little thunderstruck. "So you finally did it."

"Did what?" Ed asked, frowning.

"Told her you loved her, of course!"

Ed sincerely hoped Winry had left the house. "No, not yet. I mean, we... kissed and stuff"

"And _stuff_!" Al squeaked.

"We _just_ kissed!" Ed insisted, hissing into the phone so Falman wouldn't overhear. "Al!"

"Sorry, Niisan. It's just I've been waiting for you to do something for years, so"

"Little brothers should be seen and not heard," Ed growled. "So. Do you want to meet for lunch?

"Niisan, I really do need to study, you know," Al said.

"You _have_ to eat!" Ed argued, getting annoyed at being avoided by everyone. "How can you study on an empty stomach?" That phrase seemed very familiar to him, but he couldn't think why. Until Al began to laugh so hard he dropped the phone.

Moments later after the noise of Al's laughter mingling with the sounds the receiver made whacking against various bits of furniture and floor had died down, Al managed, "I used to say that to you" More laughter interrupted and Ed sighed inwardly. "All the time!" Al finished. "Remember?"

A smile played around his lips, and he rubbed his nose against the threatening prickle of happy tears. _God, Falman will really think I'm having a breakdown if I start to cry._ "Yeah, I remember. Let's meet at the Gryphon's Claw, okay?"

"Everyone there'll know Alphonse Elric," Al warned.

"Oh, who cares! They won't know Alphonse Hughes! It isn't as if we're being _that_ stealthy about the whole thing."

Al gave in and finally Ed had something to do for lunch. He'd been stuck for too many hours at work, and he was determined for today at least to enjoy himself a bit. The delegation from Xing was due to arrive tomorrow and then every spare second of his life would be spoken for.

He turned back to his desk and buried himself in work until lunch. Just as he was pulling on his coat to leave, however, Beatrice, the Secretary of Protocol charged in with Wills on her heels.

"Colonel Elric," she said. "I'm afraid there's been a bit of mix-up on a couple of the invitations, including yours."

Beatrice was tall, intense, and extremely efficient. She was always so put-together, she made Ed feel like a slob. She was also always the one at the Prime Minister's meetings who asked a lot of pointed, "I don't want to name names, so I'll just ask something so specific _the culprit will know I'm talking about_ _him!_ " questions. Ed sighed.

"What's the matter now, Bea?" he asked, perching on the edge of his desk since he knew this could take awhile.

But Beatrice was surprisingly to-the-point. "Your invitation shouldn't have said 'and guest,' Colonel. I'm so sorry for the mistake  it's my fault  but you have to escort one of the Xingians to the ball. It's your duty as the Special Attaché."

 _At least she isn't trying to pin this on Scieszka._ Normally, Beatrice admitting a mistake would have been all the joy Ed needed to complete his day, but  _Son of a_ "It's too late for that! I already asked someone."

"But the invitations just went out this morning!" Beatrice argued, trying desperately to make this a small disaster and not a big one.

"I have a girlfriend!" Ed shot back, unguarded. He saw Scieszka bolt to her feet and crane her neck to see into his office, and Falman's eyes actually opened enough for a glimpse of pupil. _Well... shit._

"It's a diplomatic duty, Colonel," Wills said, intervening smoothly. "I'm sure your young lady will understand."

"But she's been invited! Now I have to uninvite her? How will she understand that!"

Beatrice shrugged and Wills looked equally helpless to answer him.

_Useless! Both of them. This is just great. I am so gonna get a wrench to the head over this one._

Scieszka felt as if she were watching a romance novel being acted out in front of her. The dashing Colonel Edward Elric romancing the beautiful Winry Rockbell. Childhood friends overcoming untold obstacles to find happiness and each other at last. For a brief moment, all her worries about her own "and guest" were wiped away in the delight she felt over Edward's stunning announcement.

Beatrice and Wills left at last, leaving a wilted and forlorn-looking Ed leaning against his desk. A moment later, he dragged himself to his feet and headed for the door.

"I'm meeting Al for lunch," he said resentfully  though Scieszka knew he wasn't aiming his resentment _at_ her or Falman... just _at..._ "Be back later."

"Sir," Falman muttered, and Scieszka echoed him softly.

"Wow," she said once they were alone. "To think he had an 'and guest' and now he has two. I wish I had an 'and guest.'" Falman said nothing but gave a noncommittal shrug. Belatedly, she remembered he hadn't been invited. _I could ask him! Oh. No, I can't. Fraternization. Shoot._

Turning back to her work, she muttered, "Where am I going to find an 'and guest?'"

Riza Hawkeye decided that her life was far too narrow. She couldn't think of any man she knew whom she could invite to the ball. Every man she knew was either a relative or a fellow soldier. And with the fraternization rule, she couldn't ask any of them.

"I don't know anyone at all," she muttered and glared at her invitation. The barman. The guy at the café. The young man who delivered her groceries. "Oh, and the lush in the apartment down the hall." She smiled and then actually laughed aloud at her next thought. "There's always Alphonse Elric."

The room went very still. No one else was there  Ed, Falman, and Scieszka's reassignment had left her area almost empty and everyone else was at lunch  but it nevertheless went very still. Or she went very still.

He was a little young but not unnervingly so. He was very handsome and quite the gentleman. He was tall  which she knew rankled Edward at the same time it pleased him  and she was willing to bet he knew how to dance. Both the Elric brothers were astonishingly graceful and athletic... they almost _had_ to know how to dance.

_And wouldn't that just be the perfect way to get under Roy Mustang's skin?_

The thought volunteered itself so suddenly and sneakily she only realized what it was she'd thought after a moment had passed.

"Oh, my," she whispered. She hadn't known until that moment that she wanted to get under Roy Mustang's skin. She'd been his most loyal, most trusted ally for so long... _of course_ she loved him. But _in love_? _With Roy? That way lies madness._

Glaring at the invitation again, this time with true malice, she muttered, "This is all his fault." _He flirted with me and now I'm letting him get to me the way he gets to all his women._ "I will _not_ be just one of his women!"

But if there was one thing Riza Hawkeye was very good at, aside from marksmanship, it was bringing people to heel.

Alphonse Elric decided his brother had split into two people sometime in the night. The happy Ed had sent flowers to Winry and talked to him on the phone earlier. The miserable one now sat across the table from him, barely touching his food.

"It isn't the end of the world," Al said, trying again to make Ed feel better. "She'll understand."

"She won't! I promised her the Ambassador's Ball this morning and tonight I'll have to take it back!"

"Get someone else to take her for you," Al suggested. "What about"

"Who? Everyone I know is too low-ranking to have been invited. Besides, most of the guys like Winry."

 _At least he isn't draped pathetically all over the table anymore._ Ed was waving his arms and ranting, now. Which was _sort of_ an improvement, Al supposed.

"I mean, Havoc? He has a _massive_ crush on her."

Al valiantly suppressed a snort of laughter at this. Not even a day of emotional honesty and already Ed was suspecting everyone of wanting to steal his girlfriend. Well, if you counted Ling and... yeah, Havoc did have a thing for Winry, maybe Ed was right. Al had known for a very long time that Winry loved Ed and that he would never have a shot at her. And he was okay with that. Childhood crushes didn't have to last forever.

He wished he could invite her instead, though. The ball would probably be fun, and that way Ed and Winry could both be there together.

"Who do you know, then? To ask?" Al said.

"I don't know! That's the problem."

"What about Bri"

"Don't say Mustang. I swear, Al, I'll kick you if you say Mustang."

"But"

"Al? I'm not kidding. Left foot."

Al subsided with a sigh. It was the most logical thing to do. If Ed could find someone else to take Winry, his problem was half-solved. It wasn't as if Mustang and Winry were going to get together. The brigadier was scared of Winry, and Winry would never be able to completely forgive him for executing her parents, orders or not. That they got along as well as they did meant that it would be the perfect solution to Ed's problem  Winry would have a date with no worries about any romantic complications!

And, anyway, there were compelling arguments to be made that Mustang owed Ed a lot of favors. After all, Amestris might not even exist any more if it wasn't for Ed. Al wondered if Ed ever really thought about that. Al did.

Al noticed Ed glaring at him, daring him to try one more time, and he sighed again. There was no argument to overcome the patented Fullmetal Alchemist stubbornness. _Maybe there's someone else._

"What about King's Court?" Al suggested. "Is there anyone there you could ask?"

"Yeah, that's a thought. Maybe Wills would take her. I dunno. I'll think about it. But I'm beginning to think 'and guest' are the two most evil words ever."

Gracia had been full of enthusiasm and advice for Winry about both the kiss and the ball. She proposed they make a day of it that Friday. Winry would come over and Gracia would help her get all girly. Winry was secretly delighted by the idea. She'd almost never had an opportunity  or was it just plain _never_  to be girly. It would be fun.

 _And dancing proper, formal dances with Ed again. We haven't done that since his mother died._ Trisha Elric had made sure her boys knew how to dance and, as a result, Winry knew how to dance, too. She danced just a few steps as she walked down the sidewalk.

The weather was starting to turn chilly but the fall had been pleasantly warm and sunny. _A wrap! I'll need a wrap to wear over my gown. I'll need a gown! Eeee!_

"Beautiful lady!" a voice called, pulling her from her reverie.

"Oh! Hello, Ling," Winry said, returning his dramatic bow with a small, confused curtsey of her own. "You vanished on us. Are you okay? Ed was going to arrange rooms for you."

"All is well, Miss Winry," Ling assured her. "I wished to explore this exotic city, and I believe I was imposing on your hospitality."

His smile was infectious, and Winry found herself smiling back at him. The strange, masked figure stood behind him. Somehow, Ran Fan was almost invisible in spite of her clothing and mask. _Quite a skill._

"I hope you've eaten," Winry said. "I've just finished my lunch, or"

"We've been fine, thank you, Miss Winry. I have been having the bills sent to Colonel Edward Elric. We are guests of Amestris, after all."

Her eyebrows shot up but she managed to suppress any other sign of surprise. _He is a prince. I guess they're used to other people handling the money._

"It was lovely to see you again, then," she said, trying to move on. She had to get back and work on her shop. The opening date loomed and so many interruptions  and Ling and Ran Fan counted as one of those  had set her progress back.

"Of course!" Ling exclaimed, bowing. "But first, do you know of the Philosopher's Stone? The Fullmetal Alchemist is reluctant to help me."

She knew sketchy details. Ed and Al had not wanted to tell her about it, which meant they were protecting her. Which meant it was not a good story. In her mind, all that was tied up with Brigadier General Hughes's death, too. She knew it wasn't all one thing, but all the threads of what had ended up nearly destroying Ed and Al and Amestris right along with them had begun unraveling there at that damned Lab Five and right after that...

"I don't know anything," she blurted, suddenly realizing she'd gone oddly quiet for a rather long period of time. _Oh, that wasn't suspicious at all, no._ "I'm not an alchemist," she added.

"Neither am I," Ling admitted cheerfully. "But I still must find this thing if I am to save my people. He bowed again and then cancelled the formality by giving a little wave as he and Ran Fan headed off in the opposite direction. "We shall meet again, Miss Winry!"

"Yay," she muttered. "And yay, again! I get to tell Ed there's a crazy man running around Central spending money and sending him the bills!"

Lt. Colonel Riza Hawkeye thought she was probably the last person Alphonse expected to see when he opened the door.

"May I come in, Alphonse?" she asked with her usual grave formality.

"Of course!" he exclaimed, stepping back and holding the door for her. "Ed isn't home yet, Lt. Colonel, but"

"Riza's fine, Alphonse. You aren't in the military after all."

He gave a little head nod bow in acknowledgement and smiled. "Well, Ed should be home in a little bit. We're all going for dinner to the Glass Harp. Would you like coffee?"

She nodded. "Celebrating something?" Riza asked, following Alphonse as he led her into the kitchen.

"I'm off to school again tomorrow."

"Oh." _Of course. School! I'm an idiot._

"How are your studies?"

"They're great! I'm learning so much. And I've been reading up on Xing, too. Ed told me their alchemy is different from ours and is more focused on healing."

Riza nodded encouragement for him to proceed, approving of his taking the time to make sure his listener wasn't being bored. _He'd make a considerate date_.

"It would be terrific if I could meet one of their alchemists and talk about it. It'll be hard, though, since Ed's involved, and I'm not supposed to be an Elric when I'm at school."

_Dear Lord. He just gave me an opening._

"Well, you could go to the ball. There will be plenty of opportunities to talk to the Xingians there."

Al smiled. "I can't go to the ball!" he said. "I wasn't invited. They only invited State Alchemists and people like my professors, not students."

Riza felt really awkward, and that made her feel more awkward as it wasn't something she was used to. "Uhm..." she began, feeling her backbone turn liquid as she tried to voice her question. "I have this invitation, you see. It's for me and a guest."

"I know," Al said with a snort. "Ed's said that, too, and then they told him he couldn't have an 'and guest' because he has to take one of the Xing people for protocol or something."

"I was wondering," Riza began, trying to stay on target. "if maybe you would"

The phone rang, interrupting, and Al turned away from her and toward it, frowning, but Riza knew if she hesitated now, she'd lose her nerve altogether. "I was wondering if you would go to the ball with me?"

Al's head whirled back around, and he stared at her, mouth open in shock. "What?"

_Oh, God... don't make me repeat it!_

"Are you serious, ma'am?"

" _Ma'am?" Gah! What have I done?_

"I'd love to go with you, m- Riza," Al said, grinning suddenly. He picked up the phone almost jauntily, still grinning, and said, "Hello, Elric/Rockbell residence. Oh, hi Scieszka! ... Uh-huh... Yes, I ...Oh, no... No, I'm sorry, I can't... I'm already going with someone else... No, I'm not just saying that! I'd love to go with you, but... Well, thank you. I'm sorry... thanks, really... Yeah. Good luck... Bye."

Riza wished she could vanish right then and there. _We don't know anyone outside of a tiny, tiny circle of people, do we? Both Scieszka and I go through our list of available men to invite, and we BOTH come up with Alphonse Elric?_ She did, however, feel a certain satisfaction at getting there first.

Scieszka hung up the phone and buried her flaming face in her arms, cringing with embarrassment. It had taken her over two hours just to work up the nerve to call and _then_ she'd had to wait for Ed to leave for a meeting before she was able to bring herself to dial.

Once she'd considered him, she'd realized Alphonse Elric would be the perfect escort, and she was sure he'd say yes. After all, it would allow him to go to the ball and be with his brother and meet the Xingians  he liked being involved in whatever Edward was doing! And he'd always been friendly with her. Going to a ball didn't mean anything romantically  he'd see that, surely!

And after all that, someone else had already asked him.

"Who?" she demanded of the desk, her voice muffled. "Who else could have asked him?"

Clearly, this ball was going to rip Central HQ apart, considering all the limitations put on who could invite whom. She spent a silent moment hating her unknown rival.

"Scieszka?" Falman enquired solicitously. "Are you all right?"

She looked up, her blush deepening. "Why did I get invited when you didn't? It isn't fair! I'm only an ensign! _How did this happen to me!_ "

Falman took all of this in stoically, but he looked sympathetic. "May I make a suggestion?"

"Please!" she exclaimed.

"The fraternization rules aren't quite as strict as you may think. Something like this ball would allow for you to invite a fellow serviceman"

 _He wants me to invite_ himScieszka thought, and her heart leapt with a delight she was surprised she felt.

"As long as he is not in the same chain-of-command."

 _Oh. Darn._ "Well!" she said briskly to cover up her fresh disappointment. "Who would that be, then? Do you have someone in mind?"

"Captain Havoc fits that description, and I happen to know he'd very much like to attend the ball."

Edward braced himself for violence, but Winry was the one who looked as if she'd been hit. She barely flinched, however, and he could read the thoughts as they flew across her face. He wished she'd hit him, instead. Winry being brave was much, much worse to endure than a sound beating would have been.

"I understand, Ed," she finally managed. "It isn't your fault they made a mistake."

"Winry, I wish" he began, taking a step forward. He wanted to comfort her. Hold her. _Kiss her._

"Oh, it's fine!" she exclaimed, falsely cheerful, but she took a step back, retreating from him, and nearly stepped on Goldie who mewed. She whirled around and picked the kitten up, clutching her close. "It's really fine, Ed," Winry repeated. Tears glittered in her eyes. "I'm going to go get ready for dinner, okay?"

She ran up the stairs, still holding fast to Goldie, and Ed felt horrible. "Being grown-up sucks," he muttered.

"Hello, Fullmetal Alchemist!" Ling sang out, and he and Ran Fan climbed in through the front window.

"What they hell are you doing here?" Ed demanded, dropping from the fighting stance he'd reflexively struck.

"We heard everything, and I'd like to offer my services."

Ed's eyes narrowed. Ling didn't add up, and Ed certainly didn't trust him. But he was _supposed_ to be diplomatic, so... "Services?" he prompted.

"I will escort Miss Winry to the ball for you!" Ling announced. "If you will, in turn, assist me in my quest. Miss Vera said that you"

Ed's jaw dropped as he stared, astounded, at Ling. He wasn't sure what shocked him more: that Ling dared offer to take Winry to the ball or that he'd just dropped Vera's name into the conversation.

"How do you know Vera?" he demanded.

"We met during our desert crossing. She was traveling to Xing, and we all were at the Xerxes well at the same time."

 _Damn it!_ "What the hell did she tell you about me?"

Ling's smile was _really_ beginning to grate on Ed's very last nerve. "That you know all about the Philosopher's Stone, of course! So, do we have a bargain?"

"Niisan!" Al called, coming in the front door from wherever he'd been. "I'm going to the ball, too! You'll never guess who asked me Oh! Hello, Ling. Ran Fan."

"Mr. Alphonse!" Ling caroled as he and his masked retainer bowed, ever polite. "Welcome home! Do you not think your brother should accept my offer? Everyone would be going to the ball, then. Everyone would be happy."

Al turned wide eyes on Edward who knew he was now visibly seething. "I have to make a phone call," he growled and left the room to use the phone in the kitchen.

The thoughts rumbled around in his head, tumbling over each other, but Ed couldn't see any other way out of the predicament that bitch Vera Landis had put him in. _If it is the last thing I ever do, I will get back at her for this. I will get back at_ Ling _for this. I will get back at_ "Hello, Brigadier uh, Roy? ...Yeah. It's Ed... Hey, I have a favor to ask you."


	5. "She has a date, now, thank you."

"What's wrong?" she asked. She thought it had been Edward on the phone. She hoped nothing bad had happened, though, if it had been Edward... well, the odds weren't in his favor.

"Fullmetal called to ask me... to invite... _Winry Rockbell_ to the ball." He barely managed to get the sentence out, but Riza could understand why.

She chose to be circumspect. She understood Edward's motivation if not the reasoning which would have led him to ask _Roy Mustang_ , of all people, for this favor... _But I suppose he may have felt threatened by Havoc's crush, and Fuery would never do, and... Ah. I think I see._

"He wants her to be able to go even if he can't take her himself," she observed, staying carefully neutral. "Falman told me he has to escort one of the Xingian princesses."

"This is payback," Roy muttered. "He's getting back at me for... _everything._ "

"I did warn you that teasing him so relentlessly might come back to haunt you someday."

"Now is not the time for saying I-told-you-so, Lieutenant Colonel!" Roy yelled, an edge of hysteria in his voice.

Riza's eyebrows arched, a silent response to this, and Roy had the grace to look embarrassed. After a moment, she asked, "What are you going to do?"

"I have to go to the ball," Roy said, sighing. "It is the most important political and social event of the season  maybe even the whole year."

 _Oh, I see, indeed!_ "Why wouldn't you go in any case?" she prompted.

His answer was mumbled so softly, Riza couldn't quite make out what he said. "I'm sorry, sir, but I didn't catch that," she nudged.

"I _said_ ," Roy repeated, over-enunciating sarcastically. "That Fullmetal is _blackmailing_ me! If I don't ask her, he'll revoke my invitation. But, if I do this, then we'll be even."

It took every bit of her self control to keep laughter from exploding. "All you have to do is _ask_ her? That doesn't seem so bad."

Roy blew out his breath, the color slowly returning to his face. "He said she can turn me down herself, if she wants, but she has to at least have the option."

Riza thought that this showed surprising sense on Edward's part. Giving Winry an option rather than high-handedly planning her evening for her was an intelligent approach, though, again, why he'd felt the need to enlist Roy in his plans... she'd give a great deal to know that. _Perhaps I shall call Alphonse and ask._

Roy shoved himself away from his desk and to his feet before nearly stomping over to the window to glower out at the setting sun. "Stupid fraternization rules," he growled, which was a perplexing thing for him to say under the circumstances.

A long silence passed, and Riza rose and gathered her papers, deciding that this meeting would have to resume the next day since Roy's attention was clearly shot to hell.

As she reached the door, however, she heard the brigadier say in the softest of mutters  so soft that perhaps he thought she would not hear it  "I would have loved to have escorted you."

Mei Chan, 17th princess of Xing, looked across the street at the house she'd been told belonged to the Fullmetal Alchemist. It didn't seem fantastic enough to belong to the paragon described to her by the Amestrians sent to escort her and her half siblings to Central City, but the look of this country was strange and perhaps she misjudged how grand it was.

She'd escaped the guards and escorts shortly after they'd entered Central City very early that morning so that she could be the first of the delegation, if only just, to meet the famous alchemist. Especially the first before her half-sister Ziyi Ming had the chance to wrap him around her finger and steal all his secrets.

"Not that she could do anything with them herself!" Mei grumbled, annoyed. The emperor, her father, had selected the likeliest of his children to send on this diplomatic journey to Amestris, but only she and her elder half-brother Jin Wai had studied alchemy. Ziyi had only studied seduction, but at that she excelled.

Xiao Mei, her tiny panda companion, snuggled closer on her shoulder, trying to calm her. "I'm the one who must succeed in learning the secrets of this country's alchemy!"

As a rival on this quest, she had feared not Jin but Ling Yao the most, but he had vanished along with his bodyguard Ran Fan after only three days, slipping away from the group before they boarded ship to sail for Amestris.

She'd been certain he wanted to go, so this disappearance surprised her. Still, it removed one obstacle from her path as she worked to find out the secrets which would raise the fortunes of her clan. _At least I do not have to worry about killing or being killed._ The emperor had forced them all to vow truce for the duration of the journey. "There _and_ during your return," he had added, perhaps having seen the glint in Ziyi's eyes as she had made her own vow.

But now that she stood in Central City on this quiet side street, facing the very house of the renowned Fullmetal Alchemist, Mei hesitated. What would she say to him? How would she explain her presence at his door? What could she say to convince him that he should help her?

"I should have studied seduction, too," she sighed. Aside from her clan and Xiao Mei, what she cared most about was alchemy. She'd had little time left over to learn any other arts aside from the very necessary arts of combat and war. Perhaps this had been a mistake.

The front door of the house swung open and out walked a young man with bright yellow hair and a smiling face. He stood straight and tall, just as she'd imagined, every line of his body telling of his strength and ease and grace. Mei felt frozen in place and was glad she was mostly hidden by the corner of the building she'd stopped beside. The young man didn't seem to have noticed her nor did he seem to be wary of anyone watching.

 _He is beautiful,_ Mei Chan thought, feeling her heart tighten within her chest at the sight of that bright smile.

She realized she couldn't speak to him, then. She would open her mouth and nothing would come out! He was too lovely to be true.

He flew down the front steps of the house and headed off in the opposite direction from where Mei still skulked. His stride was long and confident, and he carried a large and obviously heavy bag slung over one shoulder as if it weighed nothing. He was dressed nicely, in what Mei had concluded must be a sort of everyday suit in this country. The day was warm enough that he carried his coat over one arm.

Sighing, she knew she could not chase after him and demand her answers. She had not planned out this meeting well enough, and he was already gone, vanished around the far corner. "I will be meeting him soon enough when we are presented," she told Xiao Mei. "So we must go back and rejoin the others."

It would be only a few more hours until that meeting, but at least she had glimpsed him and could be prepared to look into that face. She imagined what meeting him unawares would have been like, surrounded by her disdainful half-siblings, and knew she would have embarrassed herself, stammering and blushing. It was good she knew what to expect.

But she had _not_ expected him to be so beautiful.

The second phone call Ed had made the night before had been to Beatrice to come and pick up Ling Yao and Ran Fan and get them _out of his house_! It was all the Secretary of Protocol's _fault_ that Ed and his girlfriend were now miserable; it was only fair that _she_ be miserable, too, and if anyone could help make her miserable, Ed was pretty sure the bottomless food pit that was Ling Yao would be the one.

They'd gone out to dinner as planned, and while both he and Winry had worked hard to have fun and not spoil Alphonse's last night at home for awhile, it had been difficult, and he was more tired that morning than he'd hoped to be. _Xingians arriving, and I'm half asleep. Great._

Alphonse had left to catch the train back to Hoyle a few moments before and, since he had insisted on going to the station alone, Ed and Winry now sat at the breakfast table, both feeling awkward and bruised by the past many hours of life-rattling events.

Edward wished Mustang would just _call_ already and get it over with so maybe Winry would stop looking so sad. If she at least had the _opportunity_ to go to the ball...

 _I am an absolute, fucking moron,_ Ed thought and nearly smacked himself in the forehead with his automail hand. _Gee, Ed, if you only_ knew _someone who could get her an invitation!_

Now he fervently hoped Mustang would _not_ call. He shot to his feet and Winry looked at him sharply. "I have to get ready for work," he said quickly and dashed for the stairs.

He dressed in record time, not even bothering to braid his hair, instead yanking it back into a ponytail. He was still struggling with a boot as he hopped toward his bedroom door again. He nearly leapt over the railing to jump down to the first floor, his sense of urgency was so strong, but he restrained himself and merely raced thunderously back down, jumping three steps to avoid Goldie who had situated herself in the middle of one of the risers to groom.

"Ed!" Winry scolded, coming to the kitchen door to glare at him. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

He was at the front door before he answered. "I just remembered something I have to do right away," he said, and ran out.

Winry stared at the just-slammed front door for a long, baffled moment, and when Goldie sauntered down the stairs toward her, she told the cat, "I swear, if he sends me more flowers, I will beat him with them when he gets home."

Roy Mustang had faced down enemy armies, mountains of paperwork, homunculi, and the wrath of Riza Hawkeye, but he had never been so nervous in his life as he now was standing outside of Winry Rockbell's house. He'd watched the house to make sure Fullmetal was gone, but even after he'd seen the young man race out the front door and make a mad dash toward city center, he had hesitated.

"Coward," he growled at himself, and strode across the street and up the front steps. He knocked sharply before he had a chance to hesitate again. _No guts, no glory._

Winry Rockbell was a very lovely girl, and, if she had been any other girl in the world, he would have been delighted to have been "forced" into such a situation. But she was not any other girl in the world. She was the daughter of heroic parents whom he had been ordered to execute so many years ago... _when I was about the age she is now..._

What made this even more awkward was that both he and she knew about this secret history. That she had publicly and generously forgiven him made him feel even more humbled by the mere sight of her. And if there was one thing in the world Roy Mustang hated, it was to feel humbled. _We are not even, Fullmetal,_ he thought, darkly. _You owe me_ big _for this._

"Oh!" Winry exclaimed as she froze in the act of opening the door. "General Mustang!"

"Pardon me, Miss Rockbell. I didn't mean to startle you."

"I just thought you were Ed coming back. He left in such a hurry, I figured he'd forgotten his key..." she trailed off, blushing. "Would you liked to come in?"

"I No, thank you," he said. _Do it quickly and cleanly. Don't invade her territory. Give her the space to decline gracefully._ "It's just that I heard about your situation, you see. That Fullmetal wanted to take you to the ball and that circumstances  and his obligations as Special Attaché  won't allow for him to do so after all."

Winry's blush didn't fade, but he had her full attention. This was all very awkward, and Roy decided to get it over with for both their sakes. "So I thought perhaps I could help out and escort you to the ball myself," he said quickly.

After a very long, even more awkward silence ensued, Winry finally said, "Ed put you up to this, didn't he?"

Roy felt his own face heat up. "Would it matter if he did?" he countered, trying to keep the defensiveness out of his voice. He was embarrassed by the ease with which she'd seen through his ruse and by being caught out doing something so school-boyish in the first place. But most of all, he was embarrassed by just how much trouble _Edward Elric_ was willing to go through to make the woman he loved happy. When had he, _Roy Mustang,_ ever done anything so gallant for love? He hadn't even tried to find a way to escort Riza himself but had just accepted the fraternization rule as unbreakable.

Winry barked a laugh then backed up a step, pulling the door open wider. "Come in," she said, smiling a crooked smile. "I at least owe you a cup of coffee for going to all this trouble."

Roy gave a small bow and allowed himself to be ushered into the house. He'd heard rumors that Fullmetal had done quite a bit of the work himself, and if Roy knew anything about the young man, that work would not have been done using carpentry tools.

An elegant staircase took up pride of place on the opposite side of the entrance hall. A large archway on the left led into the kitchen and on the right another large archway led into what looked to be a library or study. "Where's your automail shop?" he asked, trying not to be overly impressed. But it was very impressive. _I never thought to transmute my house..._

"Other side of the kitchen," Winry said, and led him through into that warm, comfortable room. Another large doorway, this one closed by a sturdy-looking, carved wooden set of double doors, stood off center on the opposite wall.

"This is a lovely house," Roy commented. "Really beautiful work."

"Ed did most of it. I've just been decorating when I have the time." She poured out a cup of dark, strong coffee and set a pastry on a plate for him. "Mostly I've been setting up my shop." She gestured at the double doors. Roy noticed all the doorways were much wider than normal, and he wondered at that and asked.

"Oh, that," Winry said, smiling. "I think it's automatic with Ed. Alphonse always had so much trouble moving from room to room before."

The simple and apparently offhand reply stunned Roy speechless for a moment, and he covered his discomfiture by taking a sip of coffee. It was very strong, and he realized it wasn't just Fullmetal who liked his coffee strong enough to strip paint from the walls.

They remained in companionable silence for awhile, Winry also sipping coffee. When the phone rang, she didn't even jump at its sudden interruption of the quiet.

"Hello, Rockbell Automail. Oh, hi, Scieszka... Really? Oh, that's so nice, but... uh-huh, yes, I understand, but... uh-huh... No, that's fine. It's taken care of, so don't worry... No, really... Well, tell him to stop fussing... Okay, tell him _I said_ to stop fussing... Okay. I'll call you later... Yes, thanks... Bye." She hung up the phone carefully, and a smile slowly bloomed on her face.

It was a truly lovely sight, and Roy thought _if I'd just met her, I'd want to ask her out because of that smile._

 _Edward Elric_ _is a very lucky young man._

"I've decided that I would love to go to the ball with you, General Mustang," Winry said, and Roy was surprised to find that he was not disappointed by her acceptance but happy about it.

He excused himself graciously a few moments later, promising to call later in the week to make final arrangements.

The Xingians should be arriving right about then, and the formal presentation was scheduled for late morning to be followed by a get-to-know-you luncheon. He would have plenty of time to get ready for all the pomp and ceremony he was going to have to endure the rest of the day, and now he had his "and guest" taken care of _and_ Fullmetal now owed _him_ again.

Life was good.

Scieszka hung up the phone and glanced nervously toward Edward's office door, currently being filled by the Colonel himself who seemed to be almost dancing with nervousness.

"Sir?" she began, thinking that he wasn't going to be happy about what she had to tell him. "She said it was 'taken care of' and that she didn't need a ticket now. She also told me to tell you she said to 'stop fussing.'"

Ed's mouth dropped open with whatever retort he would have made to Winry had she been in front of him frozen in mid-yell. Then he shut his mouth with an almost audible snap, turned abruptly on his heel and stalked into his office, closing the door behind himself. Loudly.

"Trouble in paradise already?" Falman asked, eyebrows raised and clearly amused.

"I have no idea what's going on with either of them," Scieszka answered, smiling back. "But I hope it doesn't interfere with this whole Xing thing. Can you believe we're going to meet them today! I wonder what they're like."

"We are like you, lovely lady!" a voice rang out from the door behind Falman. He whirled around, his hand reaching for his sidearm, and Scieszka leapt to her feet, feeling her heart hammering at the surprise.

A few seconds later, Edward's door swung open with the same violence he'd closed it moments before, and he shouted, "Ling! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Ah! Fullmetal Alchemist," the stranger almost sang, a huge grin on his face. "There you are at last. Miss Beatrice told me this is where I would find you. Have you considered my offer to take Miss Winry to the ball for you?"

"She has a date, now, thank you," Edward snapped, but a cleared throat from somewhere in the hallway recalled the Special Attaché to his duty.

"I... apologize for my tone, Ling," Ed said, locking glares with Beatrice as she slipped into the room almost as unobtrusively as the masked person Scieszka now realized had been standing near-invisibly behind Ling the entire time. Ed's calmer, more-controlled expression settled into place as he returned his attention to Ling. "It has been a trying morning. How may I be of service to you?"

"I only wanted to thank you for all of your assistance, Fullmetal Alchemist," Ling assured him, bowing. "I now have a lovely hotel suite of my own and plenty of food whenever I want it! Miss Beatrice has been so kind. I was hoping to return the favor by assisting you with your problem, but all is well if Miss Winry is once again able to attend the ball. I hope I will be able to dance with her."

Edward's eyes widened in what Scieszka recognized as barely-contained rage, but he did manage to contain it. Falman looked terribly impressed by this.

"Does this lovely lady have an escort for the ball?" Ling said, turning the full power of his smile upon... _me? Oh, my God... does he mean ME?_

"I I don't have that is, I haven't had the chance to"

"I would be honored to escort you, Miss...?"

"Ling, this is Ensign Scieszka," Edward said, calming down and apparently finding some amusement from the situation. "Scieszka, this is Ling Yao, Prince of Xing."

"Merely one of many," Ling said affably. "May I have the honor, Miss Scieszka? I am anxious to repay my debt to your master."

Edward's eyes widened again, but this time the culprit was more likely barely-contained laughter. Scieszka knew her face was blazing red and wished she could just die right then.

Falman, she noted, was neither suppressing laughter or fury. But he did look a bit sick.

Beatrice was making violent gestures at Scieszka from behind Ling, clearly indicating that Scieszka was to _accept this offer_.

_But... but, Havoc? He wanted to go, too, and...? I was going to ask him... and... Prince of Xing?_

She threw a stricken, helpless look at Falman who looked back at her with such honest dismay, she felt her heart do a little flip-flop. And then the moment was gone, and Beatrice was nearly stomping her feet in an attempt to make Scieszka do her patriotic duty.

"Of course, your highness," she said faintly. "It is I who would be honored to accept your kind invitation." _I've written the stupid invitations and read all those romance novels,_ she thought grumpily when Beatrice looked overly-relieved by her response. _I know what I'm supposed to say!_

A great deal more fuss ensued before Beatrice finally ushered Ling and his bodyguard away again, Edward disappeared back into his office to finalize whatever he had to finalize before the day's ceremonies began, and Falman slumped back down at his own desk.

Ling didn't count as an "and guest." She supposed she was now _his_ "and guest," which meant that all of the agony she'd gone through over her own invitation had been for nothing.

"I think," she said quietly, but Falman looked up at the sound of her voice. "That I hate this ball."

And, finally, he laughed.


	6. "But a man can only take so much."

Edward Elric closed his office door and returned to his desk, holding his breath all the while to keep near-hysterical laughter from breaking free.

 _Okay... how could this get weirder? Ling is taking Scieszka to the ball; Alphonse is going with Hawkeye; and Winry is going with_ Mustang

And then Ed finally realized what had been bothering him all morning. His formal uniform  only recently purchased for just this occasion  was safely tucked away in his closet. At home.

 _Shit!_ It was obvious even to Ed that wearing his everyday uniform to a formal ceremony wasn't going to work. Beatrice would pass out in horror. The Prime Minister would look at him all disappointed and...

"No, no, no... this is fine," Ed assured himself, hurrying over to the mirror which some decorator had hung on the wall above an equally functionless table by the door. "I can fix this," he whispered. He tried to visualize the formal uniform with its darker blue cloth, and all the slight but important variations in the details... he'd stood on that box at the tailor's being measured and turned this way and that and pinned for long enough, _I should remember every single stitch!_

"I'm going to need more cloth," he muttered and re-crossed the room to get his coat which he shrugged into as he walked back to the mirror.

He frowned at his reflection and brought his hands together before pressing them to his chest and beginning the transmutation. He swallowed and pushed away memories of the last time he'd started a transmutation that way.

Completely focused on what he was doing, Ed didn't hear the knock or notice when his office door was opened, but when he'd finished, the sound of clapping caught his attention, and he whirled toward the door.

To see the prime minister, Wills, Scieszka, Beatrice, and a few other people he didn't recognize all crowded in the doorway, grinning at him and clapping.

_Well! This is awkward._

"Georgie!" he said, covering over his embarrassment with a smile and a small bow. "Am I late?"

"No, Fullmetal," the prime minister replied, her eyes twinkling. "I'm early, lucky for me." A few giggles accompanied this and Beatrice looked... _uh oh._

 _Just don't blush._ "Oh. Well, then, I guess I'm ready." Two of the women he didn't recognize skittered away from the door, giggling, as he moved to join the prime minister.

"Very impressive, Fullmetal," she commented. "I've never seen anyone do anything quite like that before."

Ed had the sinking feeling he may have appeared, at least for a second or two, in a state of undress during the transmutation.

 _At least the damn thing fits the way it should._ Unlike the regular uniform which had what seemed as if it should have been the coat's skirt attached to the trousers instead, the dress uniform was more traditionally designed. The coat was beautifully tailored and, secretly, Ed preferred it to the everyday uniform.

He turned to Beatrice and feigned nonchalance. "Does it look all right?" he asked her. "I was going from memory"

Beatrice's face turned bright red, and she blinked a couple of times, as if trying to get her brain to sync up with her mouth. "Y-yes, sir. Edward. Yes."

Ed looked at the prime minister as Beatrice skittered off after Scieszka, talking very fast and throwing out suggestions for how she should dress for the ball. "All right, Georgie," he said with a sigh. "What did you see?"

The woman bit her lip to keep from laughing then said, "Nothing you should worry about, Edward, I promise. But you have no idea how striking you look performing alchemy, and that just makes it all the more attractive to the young ladies."

"Nothing?" he demanded.

She shrugged, noncommittal, then added, in a conspiratorial whisper, "I think boxers were a very wise choice."

Ed was pretending very hard that nothing at all had happened as he strode down the hallway toward the grand ballroom. Georgie had regained her composure, and she looked very self-possessed and in-charge, striding along just ahead of him. Even so, they and their retinue of assistants and advisors were the last to arrive before the Xingian embassy made its entrance.

Nodding to his friends as he passed, Ed made note that, for this ceremony, a lot more people had been invited than could be accommodated at the ball. Havoc, Breda, and Fuery were all lined up along with Hawkeye and Mustang. Scieszka and Falman took their places toward the front, lining up with Wills, Beatrice, and the other diplomatic support staffers, until only Edward and the Prime Minister were still moving. They reached their places at last, Edward on one end and Georgie taking the middle spot in a line of very high-ranking military and civilian types, all facing the massive room full of uniformed and dressed-up Amestrians.

_Here we go._

Georgie nodded. The Honor Guard swept open the doors and saluted as the Xingians entered. They wore their full regalia, looking like elegant, exotic birds who'd decided to grant a blessing to the plainer breeds arrayed all around them. Even Ling looked like a peacock instead of a vagabond, and Ran Fan's ceremonial version of her bodyguard costume was awe-inspiring in just the way a warrior would want to seem.

Protocols meshed nicely, with the military ranks performing crisp, welcoming salutes as each group was passed. The Xingians, in return, made gestures which looked a bit like dancing, but which Beatrice had informed them meant very respectful things.

All seemed to be going very well, though Ed wondered if it wasn't a little bit rude to so overwhelm their guests with numbers upon this first meeting.

At last, the Xingians reached them and formal bows were exchanged. Georgie stepped forward and gave a very short  _Yay!_  speech of welcome, and then the introductions began.

Precedence and who should greet whom had been much discussed until it was decided that Georgie should escort the Xingians along the line of dignitaries to be officially introduced and present each Amestrian to the Xingians, thereby striking a balance.

 _Good... this seems to be working, too,_ Ed thought, trying not to roll his eyes at the memory of the seemingly endless meetings and discussions that had been held about this.

Though apparently there were something like fifty princes and princesses in Xing, only four of them had made the journey, along with a small number of Xingian courtiers, bodyguards, and servants sent along to lend dignity to their princes and princesses. Ed, having already met Ling, tried to imagine him being dignified and utterly failed.

The group worked its way down the line toward him. He was the last one who would be formally introduced  once again one-upping Mustang who hadn't made the cut to be introduced at all  though Ed was the lowest-status person to have the honor. And he only had the honor because he was the Special Attaché. The line was taking quite awhile to be worked through, and Ed swallowed a sigh and tried to maintain his own dignity without rolling his eyes, tapping his foot, or looking at his watch.

"And this is our Special Attaché of Xingian Affairs as well as the most renowned alchemist in all Amestris" _Ha! Take_ that _Bastard General!_ " Colonel Edward Elric." Georgie took a bowing step back to allow Ed to greet and be greeted, all the while beaming at him as if he were her own creation.

Ed recited the brief Xingian-language welcome he'd memorized for the occasion, and only focused properly on the princesses and older prince once he was certain he'd done his bit of the ceremony correctly. Ling was grinning at him in his usual way, and he said, loudly, "Your accent is that of someone very low-status, but otherwise quite good, Fullmetal Alchemist!"

But before Ed had the chance to be irritated or amused by Ling's tactlessness, the younger princess blurted, "That is not the Fullmetal Alchemist!"

In the split second of surprise that followed this strange declaration, it occurred to Ed that she was one of the few adult people he'd ever seen whom even he considered to be very short. She was quite lovely, though, and seemed rather amazingly outraged at the sight of him.

_I've never met her! Why is she mad at me!_

"Of course this is the Fullmetal Alchemist, Mei Chan," Ling assured her. "We are good friends, he and I. I have even stayed at his home."

"But he _can't_ be, Ling Yao!"

"Mei Chan," the older princess snapped. Her voice was lovely and rich and she herself was one of the most beautiful women Ed had ever seen. "You are dishonoring all of us with this outburst. Apologize!"

"Do not address me as if you had authority over me, Ziyi Ming!" Mei Chan snapped back, glaring daggers at her sibling.

"Edward, do you know what's going on?" Georgie hissed in his ear. He looked at her helplessly and shook his head.

The eldest of the four royals, a handsome man who looked old enough to be the father of the other three, glowered at his siblings and said in a rumbling, angry voice, "Ziyi Ming is correct. This behavior is a disgrace. Control yourself, Mei Chan."

"He isn't the Fullmetal Alchemist!" she insisted, staring around at everyone. "I've seen him, and this man is simply much too"

A wave of clairvoyance swept across the room, touching everyone who knew Edward Elric.

 _Uh-oh_ , thought Roy Mustang and all of his subordinates.

"Shit," muttered Hawkeye.

 _Oh, dear..._ Scieszka flinched back from what was about to happen as if from a physical blow.

"SHORT!"

Goldie scratched at the back door insistently, meowing and looking back at Winry, begging to be let out. Winry didn't trust the city streets to be kind to the little cat and had at first been reluctant to let her out to wander, but Alphonse had monitored her first few trips and Goldie had shown a sensible inclination to remain close to home. Hoping this would remain true, Winry opened the door, only to be greeted by the twin surprises of Goldie hissing and spitting and the sight of stranger standing with one hand raised as if to knock.

In her back yard.

Winry glared at the strange woman, hefting her wrench in a threatening manner. "What are you doing in my yard?" she demanded.

"I apologize, Miss Rockbell," the woman said, her voice soft and almost sibilant but very pleasant. "I'm afraid I still tend to sneak even when I could take the direct approach. I have some information for Edward Elric, and"

" _Who_ are you?"

"My name is Martel."

"Oh, dear," Winry gasped, lowering the wrench at once. "I... uhm... thank you for all the help you've given Ed and Al."

Martel smiled, her head tilting to one side as she seemed to study Winry. "Friends are rare for someone like me, and Alphonse has been a true friend. Edward, too, though he is not so trusting."

Winry smiled at the truth of this comparison, then ventured, "On that note, I suppose I ought to demand some sort of proof?"

A small shrug her only warning, the woman flipped out a hand that changed and narrowed and turned literally serpentine for a few moments, writhing and drawing more hisses from Goldie who moved to hide behind Winry's legs, before Martel let her hand return to its proper, five-fingered shape.

Winry blinked then nodded. "Okay, then. Want some coffee?" She took a step back and gestured toward the kitchen.

Once she'd calmed Goldie, started the coffee to brewing, and found a box of cookies leftover from Alphonse's visit  somehow missed by Edward who still ate a stunning amount for someone his size  she had herself calmed down from the adrenaline rush and was able to be a gracious hostess.

"Edward may not be back until late. Is this something I could tell him for you?"

"Probably, but I'm sure he'll have questions, so I'd like to tell him myself." Martel had the that aura of wariness at rest Winry had seen before most often in Edward himself when he'd been trying to find the Philosopher's Stone... and then during all that time after he and Alphonse learned what was really going on in Amestris. _This is what a warrior looks like,_ she thought. _I guess they're both true warriors._

"I'll give you the basics, though," Martel continued, smiling at Winry. "It affects you, too, so you should know what's going on."

That seemed a bit ominous and Winry took a fortifying sip of coffee and bit into a cookie to distract herself from babbling questions before Martel had a chance to elaborate.

"Ever since I found out about Vera, I've been looking into that whole situation much more closely. There are a lot of unanswered questions I have about what happened to me. I thought there could be more leftover researchers from Lab Five who might turn up and cause problems eventually, so I've been trying to find out. I have some resources, still, and I've been able to get lists of names, dates, and that sort of thing."

"And you've found out something?"

"Yes," Martel said, looking very grim. "As soon as I found out, I came straight here. Vera Landis is back."

There were times in his life when Edward not only knew what people were about to say but knew the precise words they were going to use.

This was one of those times.

As if the word had been written in the air between them in thick smoke, he knew she was about to say it. That _she_ was about to call _him_ short!

He knew Sara, his patron's foster daughter, would have found this hilarious, and, for some reason, that memory helped him control his response. He was older, now. He'd come to accept his shortness at some point during his time away from Amestris. Self-defense, really, as Sara, who was shorter than he was, had poked him about it relentlessly, highly entertained by his overwrought reactions to such teasing.

_But a man can only take so much._

Far too many snarky replies ran through his brain, trampling the very few diplomatic ones that were trying to form themselves and come to his rescue. The one he nearly had to bite through his tongue to hold back went something like, "I believe you are injuring irony with that accusation, Your Highness."

Only a second or two passed before he managed to make a true reply, but he could almost _feel_ the entire, massive room holding its collective breath. _God, what a thing to be known for..._

"I do beg your pardon, Your Highness," Ed said, keeping his voice steady and adding a very tiny bow to disarm her outrage. "But I have long had the honor of being the Fullmetal Alchemist. Perhaps you mistook someone else for me?"

"Yes, Mei Chan," Ling chimed in  and for once Ed was quite happy that he did. "Where did you see this other person?"

The princess blushed prettily and looked around, abashed and confused. She seemed finally to have realized what a diplomatic blunder she'd made as the glares of her two furious siblings and the horrified looks on the courtiers' faces finally penetrated her outrage.

She dropped her eyes and clapped her hands in front of her before bowing in return to Edward. The hand-clap was very like his own alchemic activation which reminded him that one of the two princesses was supposed to be an alchemist. _It's probably her, too. Great._

"I apologize most humbly, Fullmetal Alchemist," she whispered. "I was passing by your house and saw a young man leaving. I presumed that man to be you, but I realize now I must have been mistaken. Please forgive me."

_...Why does she know where I live?_

Georgie's eyes twinkled with more suppressed laughter, and Ed wondered if it was a good thing to have such an easily amused prime minister.

"Of course, Your Highness. That was probably my younger brother, Alphonse," Ed said. "We do look a little alike."

"Ah, yes! Mister Alphonse!" Ling sang, smiling and nodding, completely unbowed by his older siblings' furious glowers. "You will like him, Mei Chan. He is very tall."

Ed felt his eye twitch but he managed, again, to suppress any other reaction. Georgie, thankfully, seemed to think a change of subject and venue was needed, and she announced, a bit too briskly, "I believe the luncheon is ready to commence! If all of you who are to attend could make your way to the banquet hall, we will join you presently."

Ziyi Ming, to whom he never did quite get properly introduced, smiled at Edward and shrugged an elbow toward him, nonchalant. He took the hint and held out his arm to her. "May I have the honor, Your Highness?"

As it grew later and later, Winry convinced Martel to stop fighting her obvious exhaustion and get some sleep. She settled the woman into one of the spare rooms  there was Al's room and another one set aside especially for Pinako whenever she finally chose to visit them and then two more, just in case. It was nice, Winry thought, to have room for just-in-cases.

She was tired, too, and made herself go to bed as well, but she ended up tossing and turning, too restless to even close her eyes for more than a moment. Goldie, bless her, slept sprawled with paws stretched out, next to her pillow. _At least someone in this house has nothing to worry about._

Not that she was worried for herself. Vera had seemed pretty intent on Edward, and who knew what that crazy woman would try to do to exact revenge or get her way or... _hurt him. She's just so crazy, and look at what she did to Martel_ and _to herself?_

She thought she must've finally dozed off because she woke up to the soft sounds of someone trying to be very quiet in the rooms below. She glanced at the clock and saw how late it was. She almost hoped it was an intruder making the noise and that Edward had snuck in and gone to bed hours before. He'd have to be up in a few short hours, and if he was only now getting home, he'd be lucky to get any sleep at all before morning.

Winry got up, pulled on her robe, and made her way downstairs to see what was going on. A glow flared to life just as she reached the study's doorway. Ed knelt beside the fireplace and was just lifting his hands from hearth.

"I thought that was Mustang's specialty," she said softly. He didn't startle. She thought, instead, she could see the stiffness in his shoulders ease.

"This kind of fire's easy if you know how," Ed said, turning where he knelt so that he sat looking up at her, his back to now brightly-burning flames. "I was just too lazy to use a match."

His military coat lay thrown over the arm of a nearby chair, his hair was loose from its braid, and his eyes were half-lidded with sleepiness.

Winry felt suddenly very aware of being in her nightgown and robe. She reached up to make sure her hair wasn't doing anything wild, and Ed smiled at her.

"You look beautiful."

She blushed and said, "Don't make fun of me."

He looked surprised at this and exclaimed, "I'm not! You do look beautiful."

She shrugged and looked away, mumbling, "So do you." Maybe it was the fire's heat, but it looked to her as if Ed was blushing, too. "Why are you still up? You look exhausted."

"Too much going on," he said, sighing. "This day just went forever. Crazy. Got called short in front of _everybody_ and had to keep from freaking out about it."

"Wow," Winry said, impressed. "Good for you."

He laughed at that. "That's what everyone said. I was more embarrassed by how amazed everyone was that I _didn't_ freak out than I was about being called short. God, what a brat I must've been."

"It was cute," she said, teasing. She crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the ottoman beside Ed. "We all thought it was cute."

Ed snorted at this and looked up at her, still smiling. "I'm sorry, Win. About this whole Ambassador's Ball mess."

 _I'm not going to tell him. Martel can tell him in the morning... that's soon enough, and he has enough to worry about._ "Hey, I'm going, aren't I? We'll still have fun."

"But _I_ wanted to take you. I wanted to do everything right. I wanted everything to be perfect."

She reached out and smoothed a lock of hair away from his face, idly. She'd been the one to teach him how to braid his hair so many years ago when he'd had to learn one-handed and then, again, using his automail hand without catching his hair in it. He'd asked her to show him, and she hadn't asked why he didn't just cut it. She'd known from the way he asked her, from the expression on his face, that he had some reason. And now? _Maybe he just likes it._

"Life isn't perfect," she said. "And if it were perfect, what would we have to laugh about?"

His hand caught hers and squeezed. "I've been telling people you're my girlfriend," he whispered. "Is that all right?"

Her breath stopped. _Ed has been telling people?_ ED _has been TELLING people!_ There seemed no verbal answer she could make to this, so she did the only thing that seemed right to her.

The distance between them narrowed to nothing as Winry leaned over to kiss him, and, as their lips met, thoughts raced through Ed's brain. _Maybe love is the ultimate alchemy? Kisses as transmutations, love as equivalent exchange..._

His arms were around her and nothing had ever felt so right to him. If a kiss could last forever, then perfection could be found on earth  he knew that must be true. Ed didn't know what he'd ever done to deserve perfection, but he could almost believe in something beyond science if such a thing could happen to him.

They were both too tired to do more than kiss, though they managed to do quite a lot of that before sleep finally overwhelmed them.

Ed knew it was perfection when he awoke the next morning with Winry asleep in his arms as they both lay on the floor in front of the fireplace, Goldie curled up on the ottoman beside them, and Martel watching from the doorway, and he didn't feel even a hint of embarrassment or surprise or apprehension.

Only contentment.

He sent a small apology to Hughes when his first clear thought was that it would be nice to have picture of this moment so he could remember it forever.


	7. "*What* are you wearing?"

Mei Chan walked calmly into her luxurious hotel room, calmly closed the door and made sure it was locked, calmly crossed the enormous room to the bed, and calmly threw herself down onto it.

And, calmly, she thought how nicely the pillow she'd buried her face in muffled her screams and was only a little mollified by the presence of a sympathetic Xiao Mei snuggling up beside her.

"It's almost seven o'clock," Martel said. "I wouldn't have bothered you except Winry said how busy you were with work."

"And we need to talk," Ed agreed, almost whispering so as not to wake Winry. "Is there coffee?"

Martel smiled, winked, and waved him toward the kitchen.

A short time later, glad to have coffee in hand to hear the news, Ed knew about Vera.

"Well, shit," he muttered. "I knew she'd be back, but I'd hoped... I'd really hoped it would take her longer to regroup."

Martel moved her shoulders in something like a shrug, her chimerical nature transforming that ordinary nonverbal into something alien. "I think she may be playing a deeper game than we guessed."

Ed frowned at her, still too sleep-stupid to read her meaning.

"God," Ed swore softly. "What an appalling concept... any clues as to what she wants this time?"

Martel's smile was feral. "Aside from you?" Seeing in Ed's expression the reaction she'd been baiting, the woman laughed. "Sorry, but I'm still working on that. She has some kind of a plan. I almost didn't detect her  that was pure luck  but she isn't alone, and she's focusing her energy on Central."

"Where the best alchemists are," Ed observed. "There's another exam coming up, too..." His frown deepened when he remembered that he was _supposed_ to be a judge at the exams if his Xingian responsibilities didn't make that impossible.

"I don't like the timing at all. She met Ling Yao, you know, out in the desert. I don't like that, either, as far as coincidences go."

Martel watched him, waiting for something more actionable to be said. It occurred to Ed that someone well-trained in black ops as she was, someone patient and smart and stealthy, would be a great help in any future investigations. _If I ever get back to doing that._

"I have a proposal for you," he said, deciding to act as if he would. "Right now, it'll have to be informal, but I can pay you out of my research budget. Depending on what happens in the next few months, I may be able to make it official."

Martel's eyes narrowed as she regarded him. _A serpent watching prey?_

"I don't want to work for the military again, Edward," she said slowly. "But I could work for you."

It was Ed's turn to shrug. "So we keep it unofficial," he said, grinning. "And we can both consider this Vera thing a tryout. To see if we _can_ work together."

"Keep watching her?" Martel suggested, taking on the mandate. "Find out all I can?"

Ed reached out his left hand to shake and seal the deal. Martel's eyebrows raised at that but then she understood and smiled.

She left shortly after that, promising to report in regularly, news or not, and Ed, seeing the time, hurried through a shower and change of clothes. _I get to go back and pretend I don't notice_ everyone _laughing behind their hands at me._

 _Well... maybe not_ at _me. Near me. Bad enough._

Winry had awoken while he'd been getting ready, and she sat in the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a mug, eyes half-closed in left-over sleep.

As if it were something he'd done every day of his life, Ed crossed the room, leaned down, and kissed her on the mouth. She kissed back without hesitation, her hands reaching up into his hair. _I could get used to saying "good morning" this way._

"Don't leave," she whispered against his mouth. "Stay home."

Another kiss. Another. At that moment, Ed hated Xing and every last one of its princes and princesses. _But I can't quit now._

"I have to go," he whispered back, breathing hard. "And you have a surgery this morning?"

With some difficulty, they both pulled away and reoriented themselves to the realities of their responsibilities.

"Stupid surgery," she muttered, smiling. "They've gone this long without an arm!"

Ed laughed and reached back to check his braid. _I'll have to redo it_ , he thought, rather delighted by that.

Goldie rubbed against his right ankle, startling him and making Winry laugh. He reached down and scratched the little cat's ears, then straightened, dusted his hands, and, with a wink, made for the door.

"Tuxedo or uniform!" she called after him, making him hesitate a moment at the kitchen door, trying to figure out what she meant.

Then he realized and said, "Tuxedo. Mustang, too," he added with a wink. "I think the idea of all the military men _and_ women in formal uniforms didn't work as a visual."

Winry laughed, and with that lovely image in his head, Ed left.

Scieszka watched Ed warily as he hurried through the morning's paperwork in order to be ready for the next Xing-related event. She and Falman were slated to accompany him and make sure everything went smoothly in the background as he tried to make sure everything went smoothly, period.

 _And Ling Yao will be there... Oh, dear. What will I say to him? What if he wants to_ talkAside from her ordinary shyness and inability to converse casually with people, the cold, threatening presence of the prince's bodyguard seemed to freeze her brain completely.

Falman walked into the office, carrying boxes, and smiled at her, and she froze for a moment, thinking that she hadn't seen him smile very much and yet here he was, smiling at her.

She smiled back.

And then remembered she still had to find a dress that wouldn't be completely overshadowed by Ling Yao's beautiful Xingian costume.

Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself dialing Winry's phone number.

"Scieszka, I'm an _automail mechanic_!" Winry exclaimed into the phone. "What do I know about formal wear? I'm freaking out about what I should wear quite enough already  I can't take on your freaking, too."

"But what are we going to do?" the other girl demanded, her voice oddly hissing as she tried to yell and whisper at the same time.

"Look, I have to go," Winry said, shaking her head in agitation as she hopped on one foot, pulling on a shoe. "But I'll think of something. Try Hawkeye, okay? Maybe she's good at this kind of thing"

"But"

"Later!" Winry insisted and hung up the phone before her friend could continue to share her verbal flailing.

It was too late, though. Now Winry was even more worried about what she should wear, and she couldn't think of _anyone_ who could help.

Ziyi Ming seemed to have decided that Edward Elric was _hers_ , Mei Chan observed sourly. _Not that I have anyone to blame but myself for that._

She wanted to run back to her hotel room and scream again. She'd been _handed_ the Fullmetal Alchemist on a platter! He was short; she was short  she _knew_ the plan had been for the Fullmetal Alchemist to escort the princess-alchemist to the ball.

_Until I insulted and humiliated him in public._

Her own pride stung, and she had spent several hours trying to figure out some way for the disaster not to have been her own fault  ideally, she would have found a way for it to be _his_ fault.

But no matter how she tried, she knew she could only place the responsibility for the mess on her own head... and the superior and rather predatory look that now graced Ziyi's face was her fault, too.

Ling sidled up beside her, grinning, and said, "She's almost short enough for him, too," in a teasing way. Ling had taken to the truce imposed by their father with much more apparent enthusiasm than the rest of them had and seemed to be enjoying playing the big-brother role.

_He's up to something._

"How well did you get to know Edward Elric during your head-start, Ling Yao," she asked, keeping her tone civil through sheer force of will only.

"As I said before, Mei Chan," he sparkled. "Ran Fan and I stayed at his house, met his brother and the beautiful woman he will not marry"

Mei turned a _you-are-crazy_ look at her half-brother and tried to step away from him. He followed as if they were only drifting across the room to the refreshments together.

"But whom he loves," Ling finished. "So fear not, Mei Chan. Ziyi has no advantage on that account."

And with that, he drifted away.

But why should Ling be assuring her  his rival  of any strategic advantage she may or may not have against their mutual rival...?

 _Ah, I see. Clever._ Ling had no alchemy; she did. He had some kind of connection to the Fullmetal Alchemist; she did not. If they worked together in the short term, both of them would be able to defeat their siblings. And then they could fight it out amongst themselves for the prize.

The room where the pre-event luncheon buffet was being held was quite a lovely one, but Edward would have preferred not be making such a ridiculous circuit of it. Ziyi Ming repeatedly moved closer to him as he tried to maintain a polite distance, all without seeming to be moving away from her, and this way, they traveled slowly along the room's perimeter. It was proving _very_ hard to escape the princess for she was subtly but extremely persistent, and it was impossible for even a "romantic bonehead," as Sara had once called him, to miss the princess's intentions.

He regretted having gone to such trouble to arrange Winry's presence at the ball, because when she saw _this,_ she was going to kill him. And he thought she might be justified in doing so.

"You will have to excuse me, Highness," he said, extricating himself yet again from her determined grip on his arm. "I need to speak to my staff about the next event."

"I do not mind accompanying you, Fullmetal" she began, looking up at him through long, black eyelashes. How she managed to look _up_ at him when they were about the same height was something Ed would really have liked to figure out...

 _No, no, NO! Danger! Winry will KILL you._ "Please, Princess. You'd be very bored by the details." She'd retaken his arm. He stepped away again, suppressing a sigh, and gently disentangled himself as he caught Mustang's amused eye and tried to psychically _insist_ that the man come over and help him out.

Somehow and for some reason  probably Ziyi Ming's beauty  Mustang caught his silent plea and wandered casually over to engage the princess in conversation while Ed slipped away.

Scieszka caught his eye but said nothing, for which he silently blessed her. Together, they rounded up Falman and retreated to the hallway outside where the buffet was being held.

"Troops ready to be reviewed?" he asked.

Falman flipped through his notes, nodding. "Every prospective and actual state alchemist who could reach Central in time is ready over at HQ. I think I even saw"

"Edward Elric!" a very familiar voice bellowed, and the next thing he knew, Ed was being crushed in an all-encompassing embrace. He saw stars but wasn't sure they were in his head or twinkling around the overwhelming presence who'd captured him.

"Good to see you too, Major Armstrong," he replied, his voice muffled by the sleeve of the man's jacket. Which wasn't blue. _Huh?_

"Retired, dear boy, didn't you know? I'm simply _Mister_ Armstrong now." He finally released Ed who gasped in a breath, looking up at the man.

 _I'm happy to see him,_ he thought, almost surprised. He'd missed the enthusiastic, loyal, stalwart presence of the man.

"I didn't know," he replied, stepping back so that he could look up into the man's face. He relaxed when he saw only happiness. _Armstrong's better off out of the military._

"Civic responsibility is an Armstrong family tradition passed down through the generations," the man said. "I've been in Lior helping those poor souls rebuild. Rewarding work."

Ed smiled at that but refrained from asking after Rose. He still felt responsible for what had almost happened there, and the city had come close enough to destruction for him to relive a moment of the helpless panic he'd endured while fighting to save the city against what had seemed at the time to be impossible odds.

He didn't really want to remember that right at this moment.

"I was appointed civilian representative by my peers for this event," Armstrong said, explaining his presence.

"That's great," Ed said, mentally shaking himself free of the unpleasant memories. "We were just about to head out."

At Scieszka's signal, Wills and Falman began rounding up the Xingians and the various Amestrians who'd been selected to help out that day including Mustang who, as the other most prominent alchemist, made a good impression simply by being in attendance at a function.

The atmosphere was casual, almost comfortable, and Ed was pleased things were actually going smoothly. Drama followed him around, it seemed, and it would be nice if _just once_ things could be simple.

And as if that thought had doomed him, Ziyi Ming appeared beside him and recaptured his arm. "I have missed you, Fullmetal Alchemist."

Riza Hawkeye stared blankly at her paperwork, unable to concentrate. There were far too many things distracting her from her duty, and that in itself was a distraction. Hawkeye _never_ shirked her duty.

But what on earth was she to wear to the ball? She had to figure that out, and she had one day to do it.

The phone rang at that moment, interrupting her worrying, and she answered automatically.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye?" a brisk, female voice inquired.

"Yes?"

"This is Beatrice Chase," the Secretary of Protocol announced. "What are you wearing to the ball?"

 _What an odd question._ "Uh... I hadn't decided just yet," Riza began.

"Dear God!" the woman blurted. "That's what I was afraid of. Okay, don't worry. I'm sending someone over right now." And she hung up.

_...What?_

The surgery had gone well, and her teacher had been very pleased with her progress. Winry returned home feeling much better than she had when she left, dress stress notwithstanding.

A panel truck sat parked outside the house and a woman was trying to peer in the front window.

"May I help you?" Winry demanded, annoyed at the nosiness.

"Oh!" the woman squeaked, whirling around. Her face altered from embarrassment to delight in a split second, and she asked, "Are _you_ Winry Rockbell?"

"Uh"

"Because if you _are_ , I cannot tell you how happy you've just made me!"

Winry blinked. "What?"

"I'm your designer!" the woman announced, throwing her arms out as if to say "Aren't you impressed?"

"My design?"

"Secretary Chase sent me. I've just finished up with Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye  beautiful woman, don't you think? She'll be _stunning._ But you'll be my masterpiece! If you're going with _the_ Roy Mustang, after all, you'll have to look pretty amazing."

All of this was said at such a rapid-fire pace, it took Winry a moment to catch up with all of the words. She blinked again.

"I'm sorry... but what?"

Scieszka knew Beatrice didn't care much for her, but sending a woman to her home to attack her with straight pins seemed a terribly mean thing to do.

_But at least I don't have to worry about what to wear._

Martel ran down the twilit alley as fast as she could, knowing pursuit was too close for her to so much as slow down to get her bearings.

In retrospect, it had been a mistake anyone might have made, but that she herself had made it wounded her professional pride. She didn't want to face Edward and explain that she'd fucked up, but at this point, she just hoped she'd have that chance.

Vera's pack was larger than she'd imagined, and its members had infiltrated very surprising places in the power structures of Central City.

She wished she knew Vera's purpose. The woman wanted power and a lot of it. Martel suspected her of no less than plotting to restore the military dictatorship with herself as Fuhrer.

_And she could do it. She's from a prominent family, she's military, she's very powerful, and with her minions in place, timing things just right... taking advantage of turmoil caused by a massive diplomatic disaster... if she could turn Edward and get Mustang out of the way..._

This plot had to be much older than the weeks since Edward and Winry had disassembled her Lab 13 operation.

_Was that all a ruse to set this up? Play out an elaborate charade of helplessness to convince the military the threat had been eliminated after her brother exposed them to discovery?_

If Martel were anywhere near the truth, it only made sense. Vera had not seemed the type to skulk in the shadows forever. She'd been an electric, commanding presence in that lab where Martel's life had been restarted in this bizarre direction.

A fire escape dangled several feet above the ground just ahead, and she ran faster and let her serpentine nature have free rein.

The hyenas snapped at her heels but missed and milled around below as she slithered up to the rooftop and ran again, beyond their grasp for the moment.

She had to find Edward. Fast.

Instead, she ran right into Havoc.

Roy Mustang hung up the phone and folded his hands in front of his face, pressing an upraised finger to his lips as his brain raced.

He felt almost sick. _Damn it, Vera... why can't you just let it go?_

He'd been stupid. Stupid not to let Edward know he was investigating Vera and had been since the Lab 13 incident. _Of course, he'd want to follow-up on his own. Vera attacked him personally_ and _Miss Rockbell._

He needed to break the habit of keeping Fullmetal in the dark. Martel blamed herself for the mistake, but Roy knew it was his fault she'd been exposed. Two teams working in ignorance of each other was a recipe for disaster.

_Riza did warn me to stop treating him like a child... she's going to kill me for this._

Vera knew someone had overheard her plans. Martel had escaped, so any advantage gained by knowing was likely lost since Vera would change her plans. And they'd lost the element of surprise  Vera would know that they were onto her. He doubted that would stop the woman. _And why should it if her minions are so well-placed?_

"Shit," he growled and shoved away from his desk.

He had to go see the prime minister right away. She would be safe, since Vera would never allow another strong woman into her pack.

When he reached King's Court a short time later, night had fallen. The Parliamentary Guards on duty saluted as he went by, and he took the stairs two at a time, not pausing until he'd reached the prime minister's chambers. He knocked a bit too violently.

"Brigadier?" Wills asked, peering out at him with a frown. "May I help you?"

"I need to see the prime minister. It's an emergency."

"Oh, no, sir," the man said, his voice oddly light. He let the door drift open, relaxing. "She's at a function this evening. May I take a message?"

"A function?" Roy asked, trying to put his finger on why that didn't seem right. He didn't have too clear a grasp of what occupied Georgie's day, but this seemed... off.

"Yes, sir," the man agreed, moving as if to escort him back out of the building. Roy didn't move, and his frown deepened.

"What sort of function?" he pressed. "I was unaware anything was planned for this evening since everyone would be preparing for the ball tomorrow."

Wills waved his hand dismissively. "You know. Government business."

"Well, then, where is she? I need to talk to her right away."

"Sorry, sir," Wills said, not sounding sorry at all. "That's confidential!"

_...why isn't Wills with her?_

A whining growl came from behind him, and Roy whirled just in time to see a large, furry shape falling toward him.

Reflexively, he reached out to snap air into flame only to have someone jerk his arm back and shove him toward the too-near railing. The furry shape landed hard and turned, and he rolled as he fell to avoid its next attack.

"Sir!"

"Up here!" he roared, relieved to hear a familiar voice. The sounds of several pairs of feet thundering up the stairs added to his relief, and the growling attacker froze, turning toward the noise and whining again.

Roy didn't wait even to aim.

"Colonel Elric," Beatrice said, and Ed looked up to see her standing in his office doorway. Scieszka and Falman had gone home hours before, and he'd been trying to wrap things up so he could leave, too. And eat. He was starving.

"Hello, Bea," he said, smiling distractedly at her. "What's up?"

She took this as an invitation, apparently, and strolled across the room to stand in front of his desk. Then, very deliberately, she placed her hands on the desktop and leaned forward.

She'd changed her clothes. It was a nice dress, he noted. A nice... very low-cut dress.

_Shit, shit, shit!_

"I thought you might be hungry," she said.

With some effort he dragged his eyes back up to her face. "Uhm..."

"I haven't eaten yet, myself," she continued. "Do you want to go get something together?"

He heard slightly muffled noises from the direction of the entrance hall and glanced toward the door. "What was that?"

An irritated look flitted across her face and vanished again with a shrug. "Nothing important, I'm sure," she said and pushed away from the desk only to slink around to stand beside him. She leaned over him, a hand slipping across his shoulders. He felt her startled reaction when her hand encountered the metal of his right arm.

"Bea, please," he said, standing up and taking a step away from her. "I'm sure you're a lovely woman, but"

"She is NOT!" someone yelled from the doorway. Ed and Beatrice both whirled toward the newcomer, and Ed's jaw dropped at the sight.

"Scieszka? _What_ are you wearing?"

"Ask that _bitch_!" she shouted, pointing a wavering finger at Beatrice who had straightened and moved as if to hide behind Ed's chair.

Ed's eyes widened. He had never, ever heard Scieszka swear before.

"What?" he began again.

"She sent a 'designer' to my _house_ to dress me for the ball! LOOK at this!" She waved her hands wildly at the outfit she was wearing.

Ed turned on Beatrice, glaring. "Are you trying to cause an international incident? Good God, woman  you're supposed to be in charge of preventing something like this!"

"Not an _international_ incident, Edward," another new voice said, and Riza Hawkeye emerged from behind a curtain in the most shadowed corner of Ed's office, pistol aimed at the protocol secretary. "Just a domestic one."

 _How long has she been hiding there,_ Ed thought wildly. The entire evening had become unimaginably bizarre. _Did I fall asleep? Am I_ dreaming _this?_

And there _was_ yelling coming from the entrance hall! _What the hell?_

"You have a lot of explaining to do," Riza finished, her cold glare aimed at Beatrice as she drew back the pistol's hammer with an audible click.

When a muffled roar shook the building, tearing all of their attention away from the little drama in his office, Ed had never been so happy to hear an explosion.


	8. "That's... just... great."

"What the hell was THAT?" Ed demanded, but Riza was already at his outer office door, gun raised and ready.

She moved like a cat, peering around corners and turning this way and that, checking every possible angle. Ed was sure he'd never looked as cool as Riza did when she was clearing a scene.

As he thought this, Riza darted across the outer office to the main door and a moment later, she blurted, "Shit! Edward, come on!" And she ran out of sight.

Growling, Ed yanked open his desk drawer and pulled out his service pistol. Shoving past the nearly hysterical Beatrice, he handed it, hilt-first, to Scieszka, and said, "Use this if you have to, but keep her here until I come back."

"Sir," Scieszka said, nodding once with angry determination.

And he ran after Hawkeye.

As soon as he reached the corridor, he knew why she'd been in such a hurry. Flames flickered from the next floor. Where the prime minister's suite was. _Georgie!_

Ed ran for the stairs and reached the next floor only a few meters behind Riza. She held a gun on Wills while some enlisted men were milling around far too near the flames, looking helpless.

_Is this Roy's work? What the hell?_

Ed passed Riza and strode down the corridor, through all the chaos, focusing on the spreading fire before him. He didn't pause in his forward momentum but clapped his hands and dropped to the floor right before his next step would have taken him into the fire.

The white light of the transmutation flared up, engulfing the fire and then obliterating it. In seconds, it was out. Mustang's voice shouting, "Evidence!" was the only thing that prevented him from completely restoring the corridor to its unburned state. _Time for that later._

Nodding, Mustang said, "My fault, Fullmetal." He sounded out-of-breath but it was the word "fault" that made Ed gape at him. Mustang rushed on. "I should have told you I was investigating Vera. Your investigation tripped over mine, and I nearly got your agent"

"Martel? Is she okay!"

"Ed, I'm fine," the woman said, slipping up beside him as if she stepped from a shadow. "Havoc helped me get away from Vera's pack."

"Shit," Ed hissed, then looked around more carefully, taking in Wills. "Where's Georgie?"

Havoc emerged from the prime minister's suite, helping the woman in question to step over the debris. "Right here, Fullmetal," she said. She looked as if she'd had a bit of a battle of her own but seemed no worse for wear.

"Thank God," Ed said. "What the hell happened here?" He didn't realize he'd taken charge of the situation, though he did see Riza and Mustang exchange a meaning glance.

"Everything was normal," Georgie said. "Wills brought in a tray while I was doing some paperwork. He took a phone call a bit later, disappeared for a few minutes, and when he came back, he had a gun. He forced me into a closet and locked me in. I'd been trying to pry the door open when I heard the fighting. Then I really panicked, I'm afraid, and started banging on the door. When I heard the explosion, I thought I was done for."

Ed looked around at everyone, his brain racing, trying to assemble the pieces. "We all need to sit down and talk, I think. None of us has the whole picture. Together, maybe we can figure it out."

The Parliamentary police finally showed up and took charge of the scene. The detective chief inspector allowed them all to adjourn to Ed's office where they found Scieszka in a truly awful, half-pinned dress leaning against her desk and holding Ed's gun on Beatrice. The Secretary of Protocol sat ungracefully on one of the guest chairs, looking as if she'd been crying.

Everyone found seats and Scieszka gratefully relinquished the guarding of Beatrice to Hawkeye. Wills had been turned over to the police for initial questioning, but Georgie had made it clear he wasn't to be taken away until she'd had a crack at him herself.

"Another piece of the puzzle, I think," Ed said by way of explaining Beatrice's presence. "She sent an agent out to interfere with Scieszka's ability to represent Amestris at tomorrow's ball"

"No! That wasn't what happened!" Beatrice exclaimed, looking at Ed with an expression of wounded horror. He returned a blank, unpitying stare, until she looked away again, and then he continued.

"And attempted to seduce me into the bargain. I have no idea why." Mustang coughed and Georgie cleared her throat, covering her mouth with her hand.

Ed glared at them. "The timing, you must admit, is very suspicious." Nods all around eased the irritated tension in Ed's shoulders and he turned to Riza. "So what the hell were you doing in my curtains?"

Havoc gave Hawkeye a knowing smile and Mustang looked  _Wow, he looks mad. That's pretty cool._

Hawkeye, prim and businesslike, straightened her shoulders and said, "Havoc called and told me about the situation. It was right after he'd talked to you, General, and he was afraid you'd do what you did."

"What?" Mustang demanded.

"Run off without back-up, expecting a snap of the fingers to be all the protection you'd need."

Mustang looked affronted and chagrined at the same time, and it was Ed's turn to smirk.

"So I followed you here. I saw you going in the front and decided it would be best to have the element of surprise. The light was on in Edward's office, so I climbed up and came in the window." She turned to Ed, adding, "You usually leave a window open, but if you hadn't, I was going to knock."

"You must've been really quiet," Ed said, impressed.

She shrugged. "You were also rather distracted." She shot a significant look at Beatrice.

Ed turned to look at the woman, too. "Your turn, it seems." She tied into this somehow, but he couldn't see the connection yet. So he started with the question he most wanted answered, "What the hell is the deal with Scieszka's dress?"

The woman sniffed loudly. Ed sighed and shoved a tissue box across the desk toward her. She took one but only dabbed her eyes. Scieszka snorted, disdainful.

"We're _waiting_ , Beatrice," Georgie prompted.

A small shudder ran through the woman, but she finally spoke. "It wasn't supposed to look like that. My sister Evie wants to be a designer. She'd been studying, so I thought she knew what she was doing."

"Oh, she does!" Scieszka allowed. "It would be a very well-made horrible dress."

"I wanted to give her an opportunity to have her work seen!" Beatrice wailed. "And I thought the three of you needed some help. You aren't very... fashionable."

"Three?" Ed repeated, frowning. "What?"

"I had a visit from her sister, too," Riza admitted. "She showed me some designs, and I sent her on her way pretty quickly. I may not dress up very often, but I know what evening wear is supposed to look like."

"That's only two," Ed said, warily. "Who was the third?"

"Winry Rockbell," Beatrice admitted in a very small voice.

Ed nodded, as if this only confirmed what he'd been expecting. Vera was back, Wills had gone crazy, Beatrice had tried to seduce him, and some crazy dressmaker with the design skills of a spastic hedgehog had attacked his girlfriend earlier that evening.

"That's... just... great."

Beatrice sighed and blew her nose at last. Loudly. "I'm going to kill Evie," she said.

\----------

It took everything Winry had not to strangle Evie, the attack-designer, but muscles made from years as an automail mechanic were more than a match for a stitcher's, and she propelled the young woman back out the front door, slamming and locking it behind her.

"As if I would EVER wear something that... bridesmaidy."

She shook her head, deeply annoyed, picked up the phone, and called Gracia.

\----------

"You must admit it's suspicious," Ed continued. "Arranging distractions for my friends and allies and trying to seduce me at the same time Wills is moving against the prime minister?"

"Wills did... what?" Beatrice asked, turning a confused, horrified face toward Georgie. "Ma'am?"

"Such goings-on, Bea," the prime minister said, shaking her head. "What have you been up to?"

"Nothing! I swear, it was just- We were talking about the Xingians. And the ball. And I mentioned Edwar the colonel changing his uniform using alchemy."

Havoc, Martel, Mustang and Hawkeye all turned interested, arch eyes on Ed who seethed quietly.

"And?" he snapped, trying to get through this part as quickly as possible.

"I told him I thought you were cute!"

_I don't think I can take much more of this. I want to go back into the field. Right. Now._

"And he said I should go for it."

"You thought the night before a major diplomatic event was the best time to try to steal someone away from his girlfriend?" Mustang asked, incredulous.

Beatrice blushed bright red and started to cry again. "I don't know what I was thinking! Wills made it seem so reasonable. I felt like I had to act right away. The next thing I knew, I was running home to change, and then I was walking into your office. I _really_ don't know what I was thinking!"

If Envy were still alive, Ed would suspect him of being behind all this. Envy had been very persuasive. But no one knew better than Edward himself just how very dead Envy was. _How dead all of them are._

_Irritating. Just get free of one pack of crazed lunatics and another one springs up in its place._

"Some sort of hypnosis?" Martel ventured. "Hyenas do have some odd characteristics."

"Are we sure Wills is one of them?" Georgie asked, looking dismayed. "He's been in my service for years."

"It seems so, Ma'am," Mustang said. "Vera Landis has been playing a far deeper game than we suspected."

"But what prompted her to act tonight?" Ed wondered aloud. "It feels rushed. I wouldn't think she'd be so sloppy, especially if she'd been working on this for so long."

"She knows she was spied on," Martel replied. "I overheard her plans, so she had to change them."

"She caught _you_?" Ed was very surprised. Martel was so sneaky.

"It was my fault, Boss," Havoc said. "I was on the same trail and I made a noise. A tiny one, but they're hyenas, so they heard. Unfortunately, Martel was watching, too, and her hiding place was right below mine in the rafters. She didn't know I was there  and I didn't know she was there 'til I'd given her away. They saw her instead of me."

"Okay. Bad luck," Ed said, rubbing his hands together. "But now we have to figure out what to do about it. What was her plan before we so rudely interrupted?"

Martel frowned and she and Havoc exchanged glances. "I'm not sure," she said, moving her shoulders in one of her inhuman shrugs. "But it sounded as if she planned to do something at the ball. She said she needed a lot of people all in one place."

Ed went very pale, his brain racing. What if Ling hadn't met Vera by chance but by plan? What if this was all some sort of plot to create a philosopher's stone? What if they knew just enough to start and Ling was supposed to find out the rest from him?

Everyone would be at the ball. All the leading politicians and military brass... civic leaders... alchemists...

_Winry._


	9. "We're getting the gang back together."

Winry hung up the phone, much relieved after her talk with Gracia. _Why didn't I think to call her sooner?_ They'd planned to meet first thing in the morning, have breakfast, and go shopping. She called Scieszka to invite her along, but no one answered. _I'll try again later._

She sighed, shaking her head over the fuss. Everything always seemed to happen all at once. And at that thought, someone knocked on the front door.

Goldie hurried up to the door, eager to be a part of any new excitement, and Winry had to shove her gently out of the way with a foot as she opened to door to see who it was.

"Good afternoon, Miss Winry!" Ling caroled.

"Oh, hello, Ling. Ran Fan," Winry said, smiling in spite of herself. It was hard not to smile in response to the Xingian's exuberance. "Would you like to come in?"

"I have a think I would ask you," Ling said by way of acceptance. They all went into the kitchen with Ling and Ran Fan showing unusual restraint toward the coffee and cookies Winry offered them.

"I have asked the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother for help in my quest," Ling said after an awkward silence. "I am seeking the Philosopher's Stone and immortality, and I believe they have the answers, but they will not help me."

Winry knew what Ling was looking for, of course. She'd heard Alphonse yelling at Ed about it that first evening when they met Ling. She sipped at her own coffee, stalling.

"What do you know about the Philosopher's Stone already?" she asked.

"That it is very powerful," Ling said. "It allows an alchemist to perform feats while bypassing equivalent exchange."

Winry's hand flipped out in a sort of half-shrug. "Well," she began, feeling her way along this dangerous path. "That isn't exactly right. It doesn't bypass equivalent exchange. But you aren't an alchemist. Even if you had the Stone, you couldn't use it."

Ling's usual, almost goofy good humor had calmed. He seemed serious and thoughtful. "I have made arrangements for that," he replied, cagey. "But what do you mean?"

Winry blew out her breath and came to a decision. "Do you know how the Stone is made?" she asked.

Ran Fan's eyes narrowed, her expression showing barely-concealed emotion for the first time Winry could remember. _Worry? Anger? Both?_ Ling shook his head, his worry plain. "What do you mean, Miss Winry? Of course I do not. That is why I am asking all of these questions of you."

Ling seemed to have entirely forgotten his coffee and cookies. Ran Fan, too, had attention only for Winry. "Why do you need it, Ling? It's such a dangerous thing to seek."

"Equivalent exchange, then," Ling suggested. Winry nodded, and he continued. "The Emperor of Xing is very old and very sick. He's dying."

"And you want to save his life?" Winry guessed.

"No," Ling replied, a small, almost-bitter smile on his face. "His time is at an end, and it should be so. But when he dies, all the factions which make the Empire will make war on one another, each clan vying to become the one whose prince or princess is the next Imperial leader.

"The Yao Clan has a strong chance at winning that fight, but if I die before we do, then all is lost."

" _You_ want to be immortal?" Winry exclaimed. She realized as she said this that, _of course,_ this was what he wanted. Why else would anyone go to such trouble? "So that you can lead your clan to victory."

"Yes," Ran Fan said, her voice fervent. "Young Master is the best hope Xing has to lead us to greatness."

Winry understood at last, but she was also horrified. "But if he's immortal-?" she began, turning from Ran Fan to Ling. "You'll rule forever!"

"Is that a bad thing, Miss Winry?" Ling asked, so serious he seemed a different person altogether. "If I am a good leader, why should I not rule forever?"

Winry didn't know what to say to this. She knew it was a bad idea, but she didn't have the right words to argue against his plan.

"Mae Chan seeks immortality as well," Ling continued. "But her clan stands no chance of winning. It is too small. She hopes merely to survive the battles that will ensue and protect her own people."

"She's an alchemist," Winry observed.

"Indeed," Ling agreed. "We would help each other. I would reward someone who had helped me in this way once I became Emperor."

Winry swallowed. This was far more frightening than she'd thought. The homunculi had been immortal, after a fashion, but they had all been corrupt and selfish and murderous  even Greed who had been, according to Ed, the sanest of the bunch. Was that due to their strange nature or due to their immortality. _Dante and Hohenheim both used the Stone for immortality... but it wasn't real! It wasn't possible._

"The Philosopher's Stone won't make you truly immortal, Ling," she whispered. "It can be used to prolong your life, but it's... not a good solution."

"I know the Fullmetal Alchemist used the Stone himself!" Ling exclaimed, seeming almost desperate. She'd seen that urgency before in Ed  so close to his answer but still denied the information he wanted and thought he needed.

"He didn't!" she protested. "That's a _lie_. A rumor that got of hand after Lior. Ed _never_ used the Stone. There never was a Stone to use."

"But his brother-?" Ling began, and both he and Ran Fan looked shocked by Winry's words.

Winry made a noise of frustration and took a sip of her cooling coffee to have a moment to collect herself. At last, she continued. "The murderer called Scar tried to use what happened at Lior to make a Stone, but Edward and Alphonse stopped him," she said. "He died there and there was no Stone, but Lior was nearly destroyed in the reaction."

"Something happened there," Ling insisted. "Something big and alchemic. My spies said"

Unsurprised that there had been spies, Winry only smiled softly. "You've never seen Ed at work. He operates on a grand scale. And to stop what Scar tried to do... and everything else that was happening there... it took a lot."

"He disappeared after that," Ling argued, but his intensity was dying down. "And when his brother returned, he had been restored. And he was alone."

Winry swallowed back the remembered pain and horror of those days. She and Al had both wanted to believe Ed was alive and struggled against an almost overwhelming certainty that he couldn't have survived what he'd done.

"He had a lot to do. Lior was only one thing in a series of nightmares he'd uncovered. He had to stop those responsible, and some of them were"

"Your Fuhrer," Ran Fan said, very softly.

Winry nodded. "He was... very hard to stop. And he had allies who were like him. Not immortal, but close enough to make defeating them a very hard thing. I can't tell you anymore than that."

Ling and Ran Fan both nodded, accepting the boundary. "How did he do it?" Ling asked, his voice very quiet. "Without a Stone?"

Winry's face broke into an almost bitter smile. "He's the Fullmetal Alchemist," she said. "He can do anything he sets his mind to."

They were all silent for awhile, sipping coffee gone cold and nibbling at cookies to have something to distract them. At last, Ran Fan asked, "What is so wrong with wanting to make a Philosopher's Stone? Why won't anyone tell Young Master how to do it?"

Winry looked at the young woman and then turned to look directly into Ling's eyes. _Please don't be mad at me, Ed._ "You don't bypass equivalent exchange with a Philosopher's Stone," she repeated. "In order to make one, a lot of people are killed and their power is stored in the Stone. It isn't magic... it's... It's like a bank: saving up already-made exchanges for later use. A lot of people. Dozens, sometimes hundreds... sometimes more." Just thinking of it made her feel ill. All those people at Lior. All those people in Ishbal. _All those people Dante and... even Hohenheim..._

"The man called Scar?" Ran Fan breathed the question.

Winry nodded. "That's what Alphonse told me. Scar wanted revenge. He wanted to destroy Amestris. Who knows how many would have died if he'd been able to finish what he started."

"I see," Ling whispered. "That is... not what I was led to believe, Miss Winry."

"Who told you about it?" Winry asked, baffled. Ed and Al had worked so hard to learn _anything_ about the Stone.

"There were stories," Ling said. Carelessly vague or diplomatic? She couldn't tell. "We came west to find out more after we heard. The embassy was a wonderfully-timed excuse. We had already made our plans to go."

Winry nodded, guessing, "That's why you didn't come with the others by boat?"

"We had many questions," Ling agreed. "No time to waste. When we met Miss Vera"

"Vera?" Winry exclaimed, slopping her coffee as she flinched at the sound of her enemy's name. "Vera Landis?"

"Yes! Do you know her?"

"Oh, my God, Ling!" Winry nearly shrieked, bolting to her feet. "She's _crazy_. What did she tell you?"

Ling and Ran Fan exchanged worried glances. "That the Fullmetal Alchemist could help me. That I should make sure to ask him and stay close to him to learn all I could."

Winry noticed her hands were shaking. _She will not do this. I will not let her do this. She_ will not _hurt him again!_ "Have you been _spying_ on us? Do you have _any_ idea what she tried to do to us? To Ed?"

Ling shook his head, also standing though much more slowly as if afraid a sudden movement might set Winry off. "If I have betrayed your trust, Miss Winry... I promise you, it was an honest error."

"Have you been **_spying on us_**?" Winry demanded.

"No!" Ran Fan exclaimed, standing as well and moving closer to Ling, protective. Winry recognized the instinct. "We have not seen her since the desert crossing. She was helpful, but if she was deceiving us, then"

"She's insane," Winry hissed. "She's an enemy. She tried to... _hurt_ Ed. Kill me. If she sent you to Ed, it _cannot_ be for any good reason."

Edward reached Alphonse by phone, though with much waiting for his building's doorkeeper to track him down and then more waiting while Alphonse made his way to the building's single phone.

"Hi, Ed!" Al exclaimed, sounding very happy.

"Sorry to bother you, Al," Ed said, grinning in spite of himself. Everyone still filled up his outer office though the chief inspector had arrived to take statements, so they were no longer as relaxed as they'd been. He'd retreated into his own office, closing the door to have a bit of quiet in which to think.

 _I went to so much trouble to make sure Winry could go, and now this happens._ After Winry, his next thought had been for Al, but Al could take care of himself in an alchemic battle. _We've done this before, and this time we know in advance._

The mad scramble he and Al had made to stop Scar. He still woke up in the dead of night sometimes, gasping in horror at what had almost happened. At what they'd almost failed to prevent. _At what we'd been chasing, hoping to use for ourselves for all those years..._

"We found out something about Vera Landis, and it's bad news," Ed continued. "I know you're heading to Central, but can you get here any faster?"

Al didn't even hesitate. "I'm leaving right now, Ed."

"Thanks. Come to the house."

"Right," Al agreed, sounding determined and battle-ready as he always had when they'd been traveling Amestris together. "I'll be there."

They hung up with minimal good-byes, and Ed felt his spirits lift. Vera could never stand against both of them, and by tomorrow night, he'd be ready for her.

A soft tap sounded on his office door, and he looked up. Seeing who it was, he gave a little come-in wave. The door eased open, admitting a few people, then whispered closed.

"He's talking to Beatrice," Georgie said, easing herself down into Ed's most comfortable guest chair. "It's going to be awhile before he needs us again."

"Al's on his way," Ed said, nodding. "But I think we can get started on a plan without him."

Only Mustang and Hawkeye had come in with the Prime Minister, but Hawkeye insisted Mustang take the other guest chair. For once, Ed thought she was right to pamper the bastard. He had been attacked by a chimera, after all.

"You think you know what Vera's planning," Mustang said. It wasn't a guess or a question.

"You do, too, Roy," Ed said, and with that verbal cue, he changed the dynamics of the situation. He needed friends for this fight, not coworkers.

"Enlighten _me_ , then, please?" Georgie prompted.

Mustang opened his mouth to reply, but Ed held up a hand, staying him. "I can't, Madam Prime Minister," he said. "You've read _all_ the reports about me, so you know I have a history of encountering people who aren't who they seem to be."

The Prime Minister's chin jutted out in reluctant acknowledgement, but she didn't bluster or argue.

"You three put me in this position," Ed continued, slouching back into his chair and closing his eyes. He steepled his fingers in front of his face, resting them against the tip of his nose as he opened his eyes once more. "And now you're going to have to trust me to take care of it. I need to ask you all to follow my orders."

Roy's smile quirked up, crooked and smirky as always, but Ed saw that it signaled acceptance as well. Hawkeye he'd been certain of before he'd said the words aloud. And Georgie...

Georgie smiled and shook her head in something like wonder. "She told me I would either be very sorry or very happy about this decision. She didn't mention I might be a little of both," the Prime Minister said.

Ed frowned. _Not Hawkeye! She looks as baffled as I feel... but..._ "Who told you that?"

"Your sensei, Edward," she replied, pushing herself to her feet with something of an effort. "Izumi Curtis. She was supportive of the Cause many years ago before she withdrew from the world."

Ed opened his mouth to argue the point, then realized it was probably more true than he knew.

"I shall now leave you to the task of saving Amestris. I trust you'll redeem my faith. Otherwise, I'm afraid we're both likely to end up dead." She gave a general nod to the three of them, and with a blithe, "Good-night," she left them alone.

"What's your plan, Edward?" Riza asked, moving to sit down at last in the vacated chair.

"We have a lot to do and not very much time to do it," Ed said, not quite answering her. "And we're going to need every last person we even remotely trust to pull this off."

Roy barked a laugh and exchanged another meaningful glance with Riza as he said, "So, what you're saying is-"

Ed grinned. "Yep! Get out your little black book and find a telephone, Roy. We're getting the gang back together."


	10. "Saving the world – want to help?"

Edward opened the door as quietly as he could. He thought he would have to wake Winry before the mob descended upon them very shortly, but he wanted to give her as much time to sleep as possible until then.

But she was already awake. And she had guests.

"What are you doing here?" Ed demanded glaring at the Xingians.

"Ed, it's all right." Winry crossed the room to him, taking his arm in a sort of miniature hug. "We've been talking about why he came to Amestris. I've been... explaining things to him."

Ling stood up from his seat at the kitchen table. "I want to help you, Fullmetal Alchemist. I did not mean to be of assistance to your enemy."

"Vera," Ed muttered.

"She did not tell us much, but she did make sure I would focus my attention upon you. I believe she wanted Ran Fan and me to distract you so she could pursue her plans without your notice," Ling said, his expression somehow both reserved and hangdog.

Ed wanted to feel suspicious about this but it seemed a very reasonable explanation. Nothing Ling had done so far had been in any way threatening. He showed no signs of being a chimera himself. And in spite of his insane pursuit of the Philosopher's Stone  an insanity Ed was far too familiar with to condemn  Ed had to admit, the guy was... likeable.

 _Shit._ "Okay, Ling. Truth is, I can use all the help I can get. Too bad you aren't an alchemist"

"Mei Chan might be of assistance, then?" Ling ventured.

Squelching his instinctive response to any mention of the princess who'd humiliated him in front of _everyone,_ Ed gave a noncommittal nod. "If she's trustworthy, yes."

"For all that we are sworn enemies," Ran Fan said, her voice flat. "Mei Chan is honorable. She would be most valuable in a fight."

Exchanging dubious glances with Winry, Ed thought, _Ooookay..._ "We're meeting here to discuss strategy for tomorrow" Ed noticed the time and corrected himself. "For tonight."

He turned to Winry and gave her a wan smile. "I'm sorry about Evie. I had no idea. If it's any consolation, Beatrice is in _big_ trouble for that."

Winry smiled at Ed's worried expression. "I almost felt sorry for the poor thing. She doesn't have any idea what a dress should look like. Fortunately, Gracia does know."

"Great!" Ed said, relieved that someone he trusted to make sure Winry was happy finally had charge of the situation. "Maybe she could help out with Scieszka and Riza, too. They're going to be busy prepping for tonight, too" A knock interrupted him. "There they are now," he sang and hurried to the door.

"Ed! What's going on?" Winry demanded as she followed him.

"Usual stuff," Ed replied, his signature rakish grin cutting across his face. "Saving the worldwant to help?" He threw open the door, and his grin flashed on the first arrivals.

Winry watched in amazement as Ed's friends and colleagues all began to show up at their door then fill up their house. Scieszka arrived with Falman and Fuery, all of them carrying bags. Fuery ran back out to their car twice to bring in more supplies. She felt a twinge of jealousy as Maria Ross arrived, and she and Ed gave each other enthusiastic hugs as Denny stood nearby, looking nettled. But when the woman turned her lit-from-within smile toward Winry, the girl realized there could be no threat from someone so truly caring. _I'm glad she's Ed's friend. He has so many good friends._

And more arrived, some slipping in without fanfareMartel and Havoc and, much to Winry's surprise, the former Major Armstrong managed to sneak in, too.

"Miss Rockbell!" he exclaimed, and then she, too, was hugged enthusiastically and surrounded by sparkles.

Everyone seemed happy and calm and Winry wondered at itshe would expect this sort of mood from a welcome-home party for Ed or some kind of old soldiers' reunion, but for a war party?

Ran Fan and Ling had vanished in their usual, there-and-gone fashion, but they slipped back in shortly after with, Winry guessed, Princess Mei Chan in two. The girl _was_ shortshorter than Ed!and she had the oddest cat with her. Goldie could barely contain her curiosity and loomed in a very un-menacing, kitteny fashion from a nearby windowsill.

Her cheeks stained red, Mei Chan bowed to Ed who solemnly returned her courtesy. "Ling Yao has explained the matter," the princess said as she straightened, seeming to shrug off her embarrassment in an instant. "I offer my assistance in defeating such a dishonorable foe as well as to ensure that Amestris knows Xing would not be part of such cowardly plots."

"Amestris welcomes your assistance," Ed said, and Winry couldn't quite keep her astonishment at his diplomatic reserve.

By the time the sun began to glimmer through the windows, just clearing the surrounding buildings to turn the sky golden-rose, the house was filled with allies and activity. Gracia had arrived, taken measurements, and left once more, this time with Denny on loan to help fetch and carry. Breda had arrived, weighed down by communications equipment, and he and the rest of the old team were huddled in Winry's workroom, discussing whatever their own part of the plan might be.

Just as Winry began to contemplate how to feed everyone, Mustang and Hawkeye finally showed up. To Winry's surprise, they carried in white paper boxes filled with pastries and sandwiches.

"If you could provide the coffee, Miss Rockbell," Mustang said with a smile. "I believe breakfast is served."

"Just in time, too," a very familiar voice said from the direction of the back door. "I'm starving."

Winry turned and Ed appeared from wherever he'd been, hurtling himself across the kitchen to catch his brother in welcoming hug. "Al, you're here!" he exclaimed. "Now I know everything's going to be fine."

Mei Chan stood in the doorway, a hand lifted to her mouth and her eyes wide with shock. Winry watched as the girl's face very slowly turned first soft pink and then bright red before she whirled and fled the room.

When she turned back to say something to Ed and Al, she found Alphonse similarly thunderstruck. "Who was that?" he breathed.

Winry bit her lip when Ed caught her eye with an indulgent-older-brother grin. "That," Ed said, nodding toward the empty space where Mei Chan had been. "Is someone who thinks you're tall enough."

"Edward, if you would, please?" Gracia said, stepping back from Scieszka who now wore a very lovely, very formal, very flattering deep burgundy dress.

"Shouldn't Mei Chan do this? She's a girl," Ed protested, embarrassed.

Mei Chan, however, just shook her head, a teasing smile on her lips. In the hours they'd all spent together planning for the night's battle, everyone had grown comfortable with each other. _Comrades in arms,_ Ed thought. _It really does happen._

"I do not know how to do this alchemy, Fullmetal," Mei Chan demurred. "I am eager to learn. Please demonstrate."

"All right," Ed grumbled. "But I'm closing my eyes. I don't want to get in trouble if anything gets... exposed."

Scieszka turned crimson, and Winry swatted Ed with her dress gloves. "Quit it. She's nervous enough already. You just have to tweak the fit, and she'll be ready to go."

How Gracia had managed to find three perfect evening gowns on such short notice, Ed had no idea. The only thing they needed was tailoring, and Gracia had  rather high-handedly, he thought  decided Ed could manage that little bit of work himself.

Most everyone had slipped away, led by Martel in ones and twos in order to avoid any of Vera's spies seeing, and just a few of them were left at the house. Several of the group would be taking their places now, not attending the ball as guests but there in vital roles nonetheless.

Alphonse had gone up to change into his formal wear, and Roy had just emerged from a guest room, having done the same. He looked amazingly suave, and Ed wanted to have a jealous fit, but there was no time for that. For all that the day had seemed more like a reunion than a war party, what they were preparing for was in deadly earnest.

Ed took one last look at the dress, examining the seams and how they were meant to fit against the body, then clapped his hands together, dropped them onto Scieszka's shoulders, and closed his eyes.

She squeaked slightly, obviously trying to suppress any reaction at all, and when he pulled away, opening his eyes, he saw her smiling delightedly at her reflection as Mei Chan stared, wide-eyed, clearly impressed.

"I teased you, Fullmetal," she said. "But truly that was formidable alchemy."

"I'll open a dress shop when I retire," he said, grinning.

Winry swatted him again. "You will not!"

"Thanks, Ed," Scieszka whispered, and she gathered her skirts and headed for the door where Ling and Ran Fan waited. Everyone was at ease with everyone now. Everyone had his or her role assigned in the larger plan. It was almost amazing, though, how comfortable Scieszka now seemed about the entire situation. Standing up to Beatrice appeared to have given her some much-needed confidence at last.

Riza was next, her dress an elegantly-simple sheath of deep blue melting into even deeper blue along the hem. As Ed prepared to make the very minor adjustments needed to perfect the fit, he caught Roy standing in the doorway, staring open-mouthed.

"Brigadier, really," he teased. "What about the fraternization rules?"

But Roy had already crossed into the room. He pushed past Ed, muttering, "Fuck the rules," and took Riza into his arms as Winry clapped delightedly. Ed felt his own face warming as the two _finally_ kissed, and he wondered if he'd ever be able to kiss Winry like that.

As if she'd read his thoughts, Winry leaned over to whisper in his ear. "We'll need to practice some more."

"It's about time," Gracia muttered. "But you're wrinkling her, Roy."

The two parted at last, both looking a bit rumpled and more than a little flushed. Riza patted her hair primly, the contrast comical, and Ed grinned. "I'll fix that, too," he said.

A flash transformed Riza's dress from nearly to perfection, and she and Roy left the room together, their eyes seeing nothing but each other.

"That's going to be an awkward date for Alphonse," Ed observed.

"And me," Winry agreed. "But no one's going with who they should be going with."

"What do you mean?" Ed frowned. "Well, besides us."

"Alphonse and the princess should be together," Winry said, holding up a finger. "You and me; the brigadier and Hawkeye; Scieszka and Falman"

"You're kidding!" Ed exclaimed. "Really?"

Winry laughed. "Oh, he is _so_ head-over-heels for her, it isn't even funny. He's been trying to read everything she reads so they'll be able to talk books together, but you know how fast she reads. I don't know when he sleeps!"

Ed laughed. "Who else?"

"Well, Ling and Ran Fan," Winry continued.

"Obviously," Ed agreed.

"And!" Winry paused dramatically.

"Winry, it's your turn," Gracia interrupted, though her face was lit with laughter. "Go put on your gown."

"But-?" Ed watched her go and sagged a bit. "I wanted to know who the last couple was."

"Not everyone gets paired up, Edward," Gracia said. She reached out to smooth the bit of his hair that always seemed to stick up.

"No one for you?" Ed asked. He regretted the words the moment he spoke them, but Gracia didn't seem upset.

"I've already had true love," she said. "Now I have friends." She noticed his expression, and her smiled deepened. "Don't worry, Ed. Maybe I'll find love again, someday. But for now, I'm happy with my memories."

"It is obvious who the last couple is," Mei Chan said, and Ed started. He'd forgotten she was there and hoped she wasn't offended by Winry's comment about "Alphonse and the princess."

He gave her an encouraging, curious smile, and she preened ever so slightly. "It is your friend Martel and Mr. Havoc, of course. They do not stare but they are _aware_ of each other at all times."

Ed nodded as Gracia also looked enlightened.

Winry, bustling back into the room accompanied by the susurrus of rich materials, exclaimed, "Exactly!" She and Mei Chan exchanged satisfied smiles and both turned to look at Ed.

Ed completely understood Roy's impulse the moment he saw Winry. "Gracia," he said, his voice going hoarse around the edges. "You're a genius."

"You should dress people for a living," Mei Chan agreed. "You have enviable skill at matching costume to individual. Were I not prepared for the evening myself, I should be most honored to have your assistance." She sighed, looking around wistfully and with the pretence that she was just...looking around. _And not_ for _anyone... like my little brother!_

"I must go to prepare to meet my escort," she said after a moment. "Some young bureaucrat." She turned an arch smile on Ed and added. "Ziyi Ming will be expecting you soon, Colonel Elric."

"Hurry up and fix my dress, Ed," Winry said, apparently oblivious to just how amazing she looked.

Ed tried to glare after Mei Chan and ogle Winry at the same time. _Doesn't quite work._ "You look..." Words failed him. He hoped he wasn't drooling.

Winry blushed and smoothed her skirt distractedly. The dress was a fantastic, deep green strapless number with a sweeping, unfussy skirt. Ed was simultaneously turned on and jealous. Which, he thought again, was probably how Roy had felt at the sight of Riza in her dress.

"I don't see anything that needs changing," Ed rasped.

Gracie laughed, rolling her eyes, but she examined Winry with care. "It does seem to fit you very well, dear," she agreed.

"Aw!" Winry pretended to pout. "I wanted Ed to transmute _my_ dress, too!"

"First law of alchemy, Win," Ed said, and he looked into her eyes. "Don't mess with perfection."

Alphonse felt almost superfluous in the midst of all the controlled chaos of Ed and Winry's house. His brother had grown into his leadership role in a way that surprised even Alphonsethough he'd always believed Ed capable of anything.

He tried not to stalk the Xingian princess who seemed to be trying not to stalk him, too. They kept catching each other's eyes, blushing, and scurrying away to other rooms, only to drift back toward each other and repeat the entire process.

"She's so pretty," he sighed, leaning against the wall and watching her as she talked animatedly to Ed and Armstrong and the brigadier about some sort of alchemic plan. He supposed he should be with them, but he wanted to watch her, and he couldn't very well do that if he was standing right next to her.

"Stop mooning," Havoc chided. "You're making a fool of yourself." Al opened his mouth to protest but Havoc held up a hand. "And if _I'm_ saying that, you know you've really gone overboard."

The man walked away, carefully not-looking at Martel who winked at Al and drifted after the soldier.

 _It's like a matchmaker's dance!_ Al thought. _You'd think we weren't just about to face down a crazy alchemist with dozens of innocent lives at stake._

But he supposed love or at least romance in the face of possible death was a good affirmation of life. And he hoped he'd at least manage to dance with the princess once himself.

Ziyi Ming had a death-grip on Ed's arm as he escorted her into the ballroom. They paused at the top of the grand staircase, waiting for maximum affect while they were announced, and the princess preened yet again. There was no doubt she was beautiful  and from an objective perspective, Ed thought she might well be the most beautiful woman at the ball  but Ed knew many men, including him, had eyes for others that night.

He hoped he hadn't missed Winry's entrance. He wanted to see her sweep down the stairs in that dress. And he wanted to make note of all the men he'd have to kill for ogling her, too.

He did take note of where all his agents were and relaxed a little. Everything was going to plan. There was Armstrong _escorting Gracia!_ That was unexpected, but at least she'd know to get the hell out of the way when the time came, and she'd be able to help with crowd control. _She looks really nice..._

Havoc, Fuery, Breda, and Falman blended into invisibility, dressed as waiters and carrying trays. Martel he didn't see, but he hadn't expected to _see_ her. She'd be skulking somewhere, keeping track of all the details.

Riza and Alphonse stood together, chatting comfortably, and Ed went toward them, stopping when he felt Ziyi dig in her heels. "I wanted to introduce you to my colleague, Alphonse Hughes," Ed explained, staying unruffled with effort. Having to tend to this princess was going to add a level of difficulty to his job. _I wonder if Mei Chan and I can a manage a partner exchange... maybe her date's higher-status than I am, and Ziyi will want to trade-up._

Ziyi was polite to Alphonse and icy to Rizawhose loveliness rivaled the princess'sbut she allowed Ed to make the introductions. He wished the dancing would start soon so he could get that over with and then others would likely take the princess off his hands for a few dances. _And then I can get down to work._

"Brigadier General Roy Mustang and Miss Winry Rockbell." The names were announced, and he whirled toward the staircase to see Winry, who stood poised and at ease, her arm held lightly in Roy's. They made a striking couple, and another twinge of jealousy stabbed into him. He glanced at Riza whose expression was deceptively serene.

Alphonse laughed, breaking the mood. "You two are funny," he said.

Martel was suddenly there, right behind them, and Ed and Al shifted position to keep her hidden while Alphonse said something to Ziyi to distract her. Martel whispered in Ed's ear, "She's here. Black dress. She doesn't seem to be missing an arm any more."

 _Shit._ She'd found another victim to make herself complete. Even though this eased the threat to Winry, it did not make Ed feel even the slightest bit comforted. An enemy who would use other people like so much fodder for her own ambitions was not an enemy to take lightly.

But if she was here and moving about so brazenly, he hoped that meant she was overconfident. He expected her to be. He'd done everything he could throughout his team's day of planning and work to plant the seeds for her overconfidence. He lifted his chin in an imperceptible nod, and Martel melted away again, off to pass the word to the rest of the team.

After an interminable period of wandering around introducing and being introduced, chatting about nothing with all sorts of people Ziyi wanted to impress, the dancing finally began. The Xingian royals and their escorts were to open the dancing, so Ed led Ziyi out onto the floor, as Georgie and the eldest prince, Mei Chan and her date, and Ling and Scieszka joined them. No one tripped or flubbed the steps, and after the first dance ended, the dance floor filled up with more couples, and everyone began to exchange partners.

 _Maybe I will get a dance with Winry,_ Ed thought, but as he gave a slight bow to a young man who'd asked Ziyi to dance, he noticed the floor. He froze for just a second, mid-bow, then felt a hand on his shoulder as he straightened.

"Fullmetal. May I have this dance?"

Alphonse tried to move fast while also observing protocol. He slipped through the crowd, hurrying to Mei Chan's side as quickly as he could, and when he reached her, he saw that she'd been watching him. Her face seem lit from within, her eyes wide and starry. "Vera's made her move," he said, keeping his voice low. But how he wished he could have said something else to her at this moment"May I have this dance" or "You're the most beautiful woman here, princess"but duty called.

"Do not fear, Mr. Elric," Mei Chan said, her voice equally controlled. "Your brother's plan is most thorough, and his alchemy is most impressive. He will be fine."

"StillVera"

"We have our parts to play now, Mr. Elric," Mei Chan reminded him, and they whirled into the dance as if that was all that they had on their minds.

"Nice arm," Edward replied, letting his eyes move over Vera's body as if it interested him. "New?"

Vera's smile sharpened, her eyes narrowing. "You expected me," she said.

Ed nodded a bow at her and held out his hand, accepting her offer of a dance. She took his hand in hers, and Ed felt a slight, faint chinking of something hard hitting his automail hand, even through the glove, as if she had a diamond ring turned round the wrong way. He was glad he couldn't feel it; it probably would have gouged his flesh hand. "You expected me," Ed countered.

Vera threw back her head and laugheda deep, rich sound. Her gown left her lovely, long neck and elegant shoulders exposed. No doubt she was a very attractive woman, but Ed knew his reaction should not have been so strong. _Primal_. "What have you done, Vera?"

"Pheromones are powerful attractors, Fullmetal," she whispered, running her fingers lightly up his arm as they moved onto the dance floor together. Her hand wrapped around his neck, caressing. "And animal attraction is the strongest of all."

"There's nothing you can do to change my mind," Ed said. "I don't want anything to do with you."

"That's part of what makes you so appealing," the woman replied, smiling. Ed fought back the urge he suddenly had to kiss her. Hard. "Strength is something I value, and it is so very rare"

Ed gritted his teeth against the thrumming in his blood. "What are you really here for? I've seen the pattern on the floor."

"Then you know what I'm here for," Vera breathed. "Power, Fullmetal. I'm tired of hiding in the shadows. I'm tired of this new peace and diplomacy. War makes things happen!"

Somehow Ed completed the required steps, but he couldn't help gaping at the woman. "You _want_ war?"

Vera's grin turned feral. "I want actionI want upheaval. That's where you get power. That's how you take power."

Telling her she was crazy seemed entirely beside the point, but the animal part of his brain was growing stronger as Vera's touch strengthened the effect of her enhanced pheromones. Ed had never been so aroused in his life. He wanted to throw Vera onto the floor and have his way with her, and she saw in his eyes that he did and laughed. "What do you want now, Fullmetal?"

He ground his teeth together hard and tasted blood. "I want you to stop this," he growled.

Her finger brushed his cheek. A new finger from someone else's arm. Someone else now dead so that Vera's body could be whole once more. Ed shuddered as disgust and desire warred within him.

Vera licked her lips and moved closer in his arms. "And if I said I'd stop? What would you do to make that happen?"

Winry watched over Mustang's shoulder as they whirled around the dance floor together.

"I'd be insulted if I didn't know what held your attention, Miss Rockbell," the brigadier observed dryly.

"She's justso" Winry growled.

"Indeed, she is."

But Winry couldn't stop fuming. "She doesn't need to plaster herself to him like that!"

"It's all going to plan," he soothed.

"That bitch."

A cough that was probably a laugh in disguise made her glare at the man, but his poorly-concealed smile had a calming effect. "Sorry," she muttered. "I just wish I could do more."

"You're about to do your part, Miss Rockbell. We'll need all the cool heads we can get when all hell breaks loose," Mustang said as his gaze wandered away from her to track the movements of another. "Wait for the signal."

Ed hoped everyone had followed orders. He hoped everyone was in place. He hoped no one would get hurt _Winry, Alphonse, Gracia, Scieszka... what have I gotten everyone into?_ but there was no more time to waste.

The music wound down to the song's end, but Vera gave no indication she meant to let him go. She didn't reckon on Ed's date however. But neither had he.

"You are neglecting me, Fullmetal Alchemist," Ziyi Ming snapped, seizing his arm in her firm grip. "I would have this dance."

"He is dancing with me, princess," Vera hissed, her eyes gleaming dangerously.

Ziyi sneered at the woman, oblivious to the danger. "The colonel is _my_ escort, little blonde person," she said, waving her fingers dismissively at Vera. "Go find someone else to bother."

Vera stiffened, fury coming off of her in waves, and Ed knew she was about to do something if he didn't first. _Shit._

He clapped his hands together and slapped them on the nearest piece of Vera's dresswhich just so happened to be the bodice. _Oh, Winry is going to_ murder _me!_

"Edward!" Ziyi yipped, shocked, but the signal had been given and the next sound to break across the ballroom was an explosion of fire.

At that, true chaos broke out and yells and screams filled the room, but Ed had no attention to spare them. Vera was looking at him as if he were food, and she'd been starving for years.

"Do you know what I've been up to since we parted, Fullmetal?"

Her dress transformed, twisting around her like a straight-jacket, but she didn't seem to care.

"Going crazier?" he guessed, concentrating on binding her as tightly as he could.

But she threw her arms wide as if the cloth were made of paper and clapped her hands together in an echo of his own gesture. "I've seen the Gate."

Riza's fingers itched to fire her gun, but she knew Ed was right-there were far too many people and too much chaos to introduce gunfire into the mix at this juncture, even if she might have been able to take Vera out with one shot-"Which is fine," Ed had said, "If Vera's the only alchemist in her pack."

If she wasn't, they'd be opening themselves up for a counterattack from an unexpected quarter. If Vera went down, her pack would scatter into chaos and any chance at containment would vanish along with the order the force of Vera's chimera personality held over them.

So she stood cover, ready to act in direst need but stuck standing guard until then. She watched as the "waiters" suddenly began hustling the party-goers toward the exits, leaving behind only a few of the well-dressed attendees.

Edward stood near the center of the chaos, facing off against Vera Landis who seemed to be dressed now only in her underwear. But Riza recognized the gesture she made, and knew they'd all have to work even faster.

The few people left behind who weren't allies circled and growled, closing in around Vera and Edward. Ziyi still stood beside them, frozen now in shock at what was going on between the two alchemists.

Mei Chan took a running step toward her half-sister, but Alphonse caught her arm and they both watched as the former Major Armstrong slid by, sweeping the princess up into his arms and whisking her away to safety. Mei Chan laughed, startled, and Al said, "That was probably an Armstrong family slide passed down through the generations."

Her sister safe, Mei Chan began her own task, dropping a handful of small knives to the floor where they formed a crisp pattern in the larger pattern etched there by Vera or her minions.

Al watched the princess work as he sketched out his own circle on the floor, and when they were both ready, they began their transmutations.

Ed threw himself sideways, away from whatever Vera was about to do. Vera slammed her hands down onto the floor, right onto the transmutation circle that Mei Chan and Al should have by now completely ruined. A few seconds ticked by and Ed's eyes widened as the transmutation seemed about to take off but it died away quickly, fizzling to nothing.

As soon as she realized her plan had been foiled, Vera made a sound like a roar and altered her attempted transmutation, ripping the floor up in front of her, the rift arrowing toward Ed.

"None of that, Vera," and fire once more exploded, almost engulfing the woman who screamed and turned-crazily- _toward_ this new attack.

"Coward!" she shrieked. "You were always a _coward_!"

Fwip sounds sang through the air, and Ed turned to see what was happening. Several men lay unconscious on the floorand one or two furrier-looking specimens: all Vera's minions. The tranquilizer darts seemed to be working, and he looked up to the balcony high above to see Maria and Denny waving down at him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Riza moving toward Mustang, her attention fully on Vera.

"It's over, Vera," Mustang said, his voice soft. "You know it's over."

"I won't be stopped by a coward like you!"

Mustang actually laughed which startled not only Ed but Vera who didn't seem to know how to react to this. "You aren't being stopped by a coward like me, Vera," the brigadier said, grinning. He reached out as if to snap another explosion into being. "You've _been_ stopped by the Fullmetal Alchemist."

 _Yes, and_ now _what do we do with her?_ Ed thought wildly. _If she can transmute like I can, then_

Alphonse and Mei Chan moved in closer, Mei Chan's daggers poised, and Al carefully drawing a pattern on the palm of his hand while they waited to see if they were needed again.

_Drawing a pattern on the palm..._

Vera moved and Ed knew she was about to clap her hands together again. Now that she was ready for him, Ed didn't think Mustang's fire would be enough nor would a bullet or tranquilizer dart rip through the animal determination of Vera at full power-at least not fast enough.

Ed launched himself across the space separating him from Vera, catching her by the arms and tumbling her to the floor. He pinned her arms to the tiles with his knees and clapped his hands together, tearing away his _very expensive, damn it_ formal wear and exposing his automail arm as it transformed into its accustomed blade. Vera's pupils dilated as she watched, her mouth open and panting. _Oh, yay! She thinks this is foreplay._

He heard more shouts and voices around him, but he was focused solely on his opponent. She had to be stopped, _but I don't want to kill her._

He hoped his instinct was right. He hoped

He moved, freeing her arms, then yanked them up so he could see her hands. _Thought so._

"You didn't see the Gate, Vera," Ed said, and he slashed her left palm open with his automail blade, tearing a scream from the woman that echoed off the ballroom walls. "It would swallow someone like you and not even burp."

A small, blood-red stone hurtled through the air in an arc before it pinged on the floor and skittered to a stop in front of Alphonse. He and Mei Chan stared down at it as Vera choked out, "Don't"

Al moved to stomp on the false philosopher's stone, but Mei Chan moved faster, and one of her daggers shattered it into splinters.

Alphonse looked at her, surprised. "I thought you wanted power," he said, but he was smiling.

"It screamed," Mei Chan whispered, sounding a bit sick. "It was used for evil and did not wish to be. So I..."

"You destroyed it! You idiot!" Vera flailed, trying to break free of Ed's grasp, but she was badly weakened without the stone's power bolstering her own strength.

Havoc and Martel moved out of the shadows at Mustang's signal and came to take charge of the woman. By the time they lifted her to her feet, she'd gone limp. Blood ran down her arm from her damaged hand and dripped onto the floor, leaving a smeared trail of droplets in her wake.

Ed saw Georgie peeking at them from behind a pillar near one of the side doors and gave her a wink. "Sorry about the mess, Madam Prime Minister," he called.

"I did read _all_ the files, dear," she replied, winking back at him, and she turned to go address the now completely confused and upset crowd. Scieszka and Falman followed along after her, ready to explain in more detail if needed.

It occurred to Ed that he hadn't slept in two days, and he stayed where he was, kneeling somewhat lopsidedly on the torn-up floor of the ballroom. Aside from a few nicks from flying debris, he didn't think he'd been hurt at all this time. _Nice change of pace._

His team began to gather around him, making a small tableau in the ballroom's center. "I don't get it, Ed," Al said, reaching down to haul him up from the floor. He also seemed to be examining Ed for injuries. _Fair enough._

"Get what?" Ed managed, accepting the assist and levering himself to his feet.

"How'd she do that clappy thing if she didn't see the Gate?"

Ed smiled at his little brother. "Same way you were going to," he said, gesturing at his own hand with a pretend pen. "She had a circle tattooed on the palm of her hand with that fake stone embedded right in the middle. When I saw you drawing on your hand, I took a chance. I just didn't believe she could've really seen the Gate between now and when we saw her last. Especially since she's in better shape now than she was before."

"Better shape, huh?" Winry said, and Ed whirled to face her. She looked really mad.

"Physically!" Ed protested. He glanced around, hoping for some sympathy, but everyone seemed to be drifting off to other dutiescarting away minions, giving reports to the police who'd shown up at some point when Ed hadn't been looking, and... _pairing up._

Roy and Riza were gazing into each other's eyes like teenagers, and Mei Chan had come up beside Alphonse, who'd turned to talk to her, and now they weren't much better than the grown-ups.

Ling and Ran Fan stood next to a small pile of minions they'd apparently wrangled together and looked as if they'd had more fun than anyone else that night. Ed didn't look around anymore, starting to be afraid of what pairing he might spot next. He turned back to Winry and sighed. "She has two arms," he added.

Winry still glared at him. "You wanted to have _sex_ with that thing!"

Ed could feel his face turn bright red, and he was certain attention had switched back to him once more from several quarters. For one thing, the background murmur had died down considerably.

"She was doing some sort of alchemy to make me... want her," Ed hissed, trying to keep his voice down. "As if I'd ever want to even touch her at all"

Winry smiled then, a lopsided, half-stifled smile, and Ed sighed again. "That wasn't nice," he said. "I'm really tired."

"But you're so much fun to tease," Winry replied. She glanced down at his automail which still held its bladed transmutation. "That's pretty amazing," she said.

"Haven't you ever seen this before?" He held out his arm for her to examine.

"I don't think so," she said, and he saw that she was about to disappear down the path of automail geekery, never to return.

He pulled his arm away and transmuted it back to normal. "You can look at it later. There's something else I want to do now."

She looked startled as his arm returned to normal and looked up at him as he spoke. _Perfect._ Ed caught her face in his handsone flesh, the other cool, perfect, lovingly-made automailand kissed her. She moved closer as he did, and their hands found hair to tangle in while their bodies pressed as close to each other as clothing and air allowed.

Something thwacked against the back of Ed's head, and he pulled away to glare at Havoc.

"Geez, get a room, you two," the man said, returning the glare with interest. "You" but he didn't get any further than that before Martel literally snaked out an arm, caught him and pulled him into her embrace. Havoc melted into her kiss without any noticeable resistance, and Winry giggled.

Ed looked at her, enjoying her smile and the feel of her body against his as she giggled. _Perfection. This is perfection._ "I've been meaning to tell you something for awhile now, Winry," he said, keeping his tone casual.

She smiled at him, her eyes glowing. "I know, Ed. I love you, too."

"Let me say it!" he protested, laughing.

"You already have," she said, and when his expression turned more confused, she explained, "You're a man of action. You say your love with what you _do_. And I love you, too."

They kissed again, uninterrupted this time, and sometime later Ed managed a couple more words. "Ling's right."

Winry's eyes widened at that but she said nothing, her expression expectant.

"I _should_ marry you," Ed said.

"You should," Winry agreed. "And I should marry you."

"It seems," Georgie's voice rang out, calling everyone's attention back to the situation at hand. "That several of you ought to marry each other."

She didn't seem the least bit upset by the flagrant romancing going on between Mustang and Hawkeye, Scieszka and Falman, and even Denny and Maria. She strode over to where Ed and Winry stood, still rather entangled.

"But the first thing we'll need to do is sort out that damn fool fraternization rule," she added in a conspiratorial and highly theatrical whisper. "Do you have any idea how much trouble everyone had getting dates to this ball?"

-end-


End file.
